IMA<^J  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


II  I.I 
11.25 


m 


III 


140 


1^ 

■  22 
2.0 


■INiU 

14  U4 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

WIISTIR.N.Y.  14SI0 

(71«)t79-4S03 


Si 


^ 


i 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CiHM/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microreproductions  historiquaa 


Tttchnical  and  Bibliographic  Notaa/Notaa  tachniquaa  at  bibilographiquaa 


to 


Tha  Inatituta  haa  attatnptad  to  obtain  tha  baat 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  biblio  graphically  uniqua, 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  algnificantiy  changa 
tha  uaual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  balow. 


n 


D 


n 


Colourad  eovara/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I     I   Covars  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagia 


□   Covars  rastorad  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  raataurAa  at/ou  paliiculAa 

□   Covar  titia  misting/ 
La  titra  da  couvartura  manqua 

□   Colourad  maps/ 
Cartas  gtographiquas  tn  coulaur 


Colourad  Ink  (i.a.  othar  than  blua  or  black)/ 
Encra  da  coulaur  (i.a.  autra  qua  blaua  ou  noira) 


r~n   Colourad  platas  and/or  illuatrations/ 


D 


Planchas  at/ou  illustrations  an  coulaur 

Bound  with  othar  matarial/ 
RaliA  avac  d'autras  documents 

Tight  binding  may  causa  shadows  or  distortion 
along  intarior  margin/ 

La  re  liura  sarria  paut  causar  da  I'ombra  ou  da  la 
diatortion  la  lony  da  la  marga  intiriaura 

Blank  laavas  addad  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissant  di  ns  ia  texte. 
mais,  lorsque  cela  Atait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  it*  filmAes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentalras  supplAmentairas; 


L'Inatitut  a  microf llmA  la  mailleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  AtA  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
da  cat  exemplaire  qui  sont  paut-Atra  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliogvsphique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
una  image  raproduit«,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mithoda  normaia  de  filmage 
sont  indiquAs  ci-dessous. 


I     I   Coloured  pages/ 


D 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagias 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restaurias  at/ou  palliculAes 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxei 
Pages  dicolorAes,  techetAes  ou  piquAes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  ditachtes 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Quality  InAgaie  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  matarii 
Comprend  du  material  supplimentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  idition  disponible 


r~~|  Pages  damaged/ 

I      I  Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 

Fyj  Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 

r~n  Pages  detached/ 

r~p^  Showthrough/ 

r*n  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I     I  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I — I  Only  edition  available/ 


The 
poe 
oft 
film 


bag 

tha 

sion 

oth< 

first 

sion 

or  11 


The 
shal 
TINl 
whic 

IMap 
diffe 
entir 
begii 
right 
requi 
meth 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc..  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totaiement  ou  partieilement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuiliet  d'erreta.  une  pelure, 
etc..  ont  M  filmies  A  nouveau  de  fa^on  A 
obtenir  la  meiileure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  tha  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film*  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


28X 


30X 


y/ 

12X 


16X 


aox 


24X 


28X 


32X 


plaire 
M  d«tail« 
iquas  du 
int  modifisr 
«ig«r  une 
de  filmage 


TiM  co|>y  filnMd  hmn  Hm  b««n  raproduccd  thanks 
to  th*  gMMrotfty  of: 

DougiM  Library 
Quaon't  Univarsity 

Tha  imagaa  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
poasibia  conaidaring  tlia  condition  and  iagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  Icaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spacificationa. 


L'axamplaira  fHm*  fut  raproduit  grica  A  la 
SAnAroaiti  da: 

Douglas  Library 
Quaan's  Univarsity 

Las  imagaa  suhrantas  ont  AtA  raproduitaa  avac  ia 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattatA  da  I'axampiaira  fllmA,  at  an 
conformitA  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 


Id/ 
quAss 


Original  copias  in  printad  papar  covars  ara  fllmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  illustratad  impras- 
sion,  or  tha  bacic  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copias  ara  fllmad  baginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
sion,  and  anding  on  tha  last  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illustratad  imprassion. 


Laa  axamplairaa  originaux  dont  la  eouvartura  mn 
papiar  ast  imprlmAa  sont  fllmAs  an  comman^nt 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  salt  par  la 
damlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'imprasslon  ou  d'lHustration.  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  caa.  Tous  las  sutras  axamplairas 
originaux  sont  fllmAs  sn  commanpant  par  ia 
pramiAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainta 
d'imprasslon  ou  d'illustration  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darnlAra  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
amprainta. 


Tha  last  racordad  frama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  contain  tha  symbol  ^^>  (moaning  "CON> 
TINUED"),  or  tha  symbol  y  (moaning  "END"), 
whichavar  appiias. 


Un  das  symbolas  suivants  apparattra  sur  Is 
darniAra  imaga  da  chaqua  microficha,  salon  la 
cas:  la  symbols  -^  signif is  "A  SUIVRE ",  la 
symbols  ▼  signlfia  "FIN". 


:aira 


Maps,  platas,  charts,  ate,  may  ba  fllmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  larga  to  b(. 
antiraly  included  in  ona  axposura  ara  fllmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  eornar,  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framas  as 
raquirad.  Tha  following  diagrams  iliustrata  tha 
mathod: 


Las  cartas,  planchss,  tablaaux,  ate,  pauvant  Atra 
fllmAs  A  das  taux  da  rAduction  diff Arants. 
Lorsqua  ia  documant  ast  trap  grand  pour  Atra 
raproduit  an  un  saui  clichA,  il  ast  fllmA  A  partir 
da  I'angia  supAriaur  gaucha,  da  gaucha  A  droita. 
at  da  hiaut  an  bas,  it  pranant  la  nombra 
d'imagas  nAcassaira.  Las  diagrammas  suivants 
illustrsnt  la  mAthoda. 


by  errata 
ned  to 

lant 

une  pelure, 

faf on  A 


1 

2 

3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

Beingi 


GR( 


/ 


Wi  Id  •AnimaJs*i£tKi(iowN 


<_ 


"■'  -■■■  J:^- 


by 

Ernest  Thompson  Seton 


»WTWU$TT»TW-6« 

fclRDS«r-MANlT«flXi^  ^ 
flAMMALSWfWIIT«Mr  iTt 

3HAIL»f  THE  5AN0HIUST»ff' 
^•MAPHYorAOWm/* 
tlVES'TTHCHUNTEOHW* 


BeinjjthePenonsJ  Histories  of 
Lobo 
SlIversH 

Blndo 

The  Sprinpf ield  Foy 
The  Pd^cino  MustMip 
Wixlly    ^  \ 

9jid  Redruf  f 


Publuhtd  by  •movement  with  Charles  Scribncr'f  Sou 


GROSSET  V  DUNLAP,  Publiiheri.  New  York 


V 


L 


QL'7Sl.*34W 


I 


*MM  IN  TMI  UNITfO  •TATIS  OP  MiniOA 


U       I 


I 


I 


ThlsfiMK 
teDedlcMed 


■pjlro 


4(>9;)5 


I  1 


A  List  of  the  Stories  In  this  Book 
And  thdr  FuQ-^iMige  Drawings 

ttbe^  tht  IQng  of  CumimiMfcir  ....  15 
Lobo  showing  the  pack  how  to  kill 

OCCt        , 2j 

Tannerey,  with  his  dogs,  came  gallop- 
ing up  the  cafiou ^j 

Lobo  exposing  the  traps    ....  38 

Lobo  and  Blanca 4a 

Lobo  Rex  Currumpee 55 

eilrmpett  the  Story  of  *  Cfow    ...  57 

Silverspot      .     .               g, 

The  handle  of  a  china-cup,  the  gem  of 

fne  collection      ••••..  73 

Roost  in  a  row,  like  big  folks      ...  78 

The  track  of  the  murderer     ....  85 

The  death  of  Silverspot    .....  8* 

5 


A  List  of  the  Stories  in  this  Book 

Paga 

Ramylug,   the  Story   of  *   Cottontail 

lUbbit 91 

"Mammy,  mammy  1 "  he  screamed,  in 
mortal  terror 97 

Rag  followed  the  snow-white  beacon  .  118 
The   hound  came  sniffing    .long   the 

log 126 

No  chance  to  turn  now 139 

Ptngo,  the  Story  of  fly  O09      ...        145 

Frank  retreated  each  time  the  wolf 
turned 149 

Bingo  and  the  she-wolf 167 

Bingo  watched  while  Curley  feasted     .     172 
Tail-piLce    .  183 

Cbe  Springfield  fox 185 

ihey  tussled  and  fought,  while  their 
mother  looked  on  with  fond  de- 
light   196 

Vix  shows  the  cubs  how  to  catch  mice     202 

There  she  had  lain,  and  mourned  .     .     218 

6 


fi 


I  Book 


mtatl 


d,  in 


91 


•     • 

97 

:on  . 

118 

the 

•    • 

126 

•    • 

139 

• 

145 

wolf 

•    • 

149 

•    • 

167 

i  . 

172 

•  • 

183 

■ 

i«5 

:heir 

de- 

•    • 

196 

nice 

202 

•    • 

218 

221; 

A  List  of  tlic  Storks  !n  this  Book 

CIm  Patint  Nwtang 337 

Away  went  the  mustang  at  his  fiunous 
pace 61 

VhMj,  tfic  dtorjr  of  a  Y*tl*i'  Oetf     .     .  273 

The  three  maroons 277 

Once  more  a  sheep-dog  in  charge  of 

a  flock 287 

Wully  studied  her  calm  face      .     .     .  299 

tUinrft,  tht  Story  of  the  Don  TalU"* 

partHdgK 305 

In  the  moonlight 321 

RediufT  saving  Runtie 340 

The  owl 356 

The  thought.     (Tail-piece)     .    .    .    .  S59 


Note  to  tlie  Reader 

THESE  STORIES  are  true.  Althongh  I 
hav;  lett  the  strict  line  of  historical  truth  im 
many  places,  the  animals  in  this  book  were  aO 
real  ciiaracters.  They  lived  the  lives  I  have 
depicted,  and  showed  the  stamp  of  heroism  and 
personality  more  strongly  by  fiir  than  it  has  been 
in  the  power  of  my  pen  to  tell. 

I  believe  that  natural  history  has  lost  much 
by  the  vague  general  treatment  that  is  so  com- 
mon. Wnat  satisfaction  would  be  derived  from 
J.  ten>page  sketch  of  the  habits  and  customs  of 
Man  ?  How  much  more  profitable  it  would  be 
to  devote  that  space  to  the  life  of  some  one 
Hreat  man.  This  is  the  principle  I  have  m- 
ieavored  to  apply  to  my  animals.  The  ml 
personality  of  the  individual,  and  his  view  of 
life  are  mv  theme,  rather  than  the  ways  of  the 

9 


V' 


Note  to  the  Reader 


inr-}  ;'  n  general,  as  viewed  by  a  casual  and  hoo- 
tilf  ■'  rinn  eye. 

it,,.  .,  ..V  .(iM'i^  inconsistent  in  view  of  mjr 
iMviiiu  i-io  v- .  .»  rihft  some  of  the  characters, 
but  thai  waa  iii.kIc  iiciessary  by  the  fragmentary 
nature  of  the  records.  'I'licrct  is,  however,  al- 
most no  deviation  from  the  truth  in  Lobo,  Bin- 
go, and  the  Mustang. 

Lobo  lived  his  wild  romantic  Hie  from  1889 
to  1894  in  the  Currumpaw  region,  as  the  ranch- 
men know  too  well,  and  died,  precisely  as  re- 
lated, on  January  31,  1894. 

Bingo  was  my  dog  from  1882  to  1888,  in 
cpite  of  interruptions,  caused  by  lengthy  visits 
Id  New  York,  as  my  Manitoban  friends  will  re- 
member. And  my  old  friend,  the  owner  of 
Tan,  will  learn  from  these  pages  how  his  dog 
really  died. 

The  Mustang  lived  not  far  from  Lobo  in  the 

early  nineties.     The  story  is  given  strictly  as  it 

occurred,  excepting  that  there  is  a  dispute  as  to 

the  manner  of  his  death.     According  to  some 

.TStimony  he  broke  his  neck  in  the  corral  that 

KO 


Note  to  the  Reader 


he  was  first  taken  to.     Old  Turkey  trark  is  where 
he  cannot  be  consulted  to  settle  it. 

WuUy  is,  in  a  sense,  a  compound  of  two  dogs ; 
both  vnre  mongrels,  of  some  collie  biood,  and 
were  raised  as  sheep-dogs.  The  first  part  ol 
Wully  is  given  as  it  happened,  after  that  it  was 
known  only  that  he  became  a  savage,  treacher- 
ous sheep-killer.  The  details  of  the  second  pan 
belong  really  to  another,  a  similar  yaller  dog, 
who  long  lived  the  double  life — a  faithful  sheep- 
dog by  day,  and  a  bloodthirsty,  treacherous 
monster  by  night.  Such  things  are  less  rare 
than  is  supposed,  and  since  writing  these  stories 
I  have  heard  of  another  double-lived  sheep-dog 
^hat  added  to  its  night  amusements  the  crown- 
ing barbarity  of  murdering  the  smaller  do^;s  oi 
the  neighborhood.  He  had  kill'^d  twenty,  and 
hidden  them  in  a  sand-pit,  when  discovered  bf 
his  master.    He  died  just  as  WuUy  did 

All  told,  I  now  have  information  of  six  ct 
these  Jekyl-Hyde  dogs.  In  each  case  it  hap- 
pened to  be  a  collie. 

Redruff  really  li"ed  in  the  Don  Valley  north 
U 


Note  to  the  Keader 


of  Toronto,  and  many  of  my  companions  will 
remember  him.  He  was  killed  in  1889,  be* 
tween  the  Sugar  Loaf  and  Castle  Frank,  by  a 
creature  whose  name  I  have  withheld  «s  it  is 
the  species,  rather  than  the  individual,  that  I 
wish  to  expose. 

Silverspot,  Raggylug,  and  Vixen  are  tbunded 
on  real  characters.  Though  I  have  ascribed  to 
them  the  adventures  of  more  than  one  of  their 
kind,  every  incident  in  their  biogmphies  is  from 
Ufe. 

The  fact  that  these  stories  are  true  is  thi  rea- 
son why  all  are  tragic.  The  life  of  a  wild  ani- 
mal always  has  a  tragic  eru^ 

Such  a  collection  of  histories  naturally  sug- 
gests a  common  thought — a  moral  it  would  have 
been  called  in  the  last  century.  No  doubt  each 
different  mind  will  find  a  *:icral  to  its  taste,  but 
I  hope  some  will  herein  find  emphasized  a 
moral  as  old  as  Scripture — we  and  the  beasts 
are  kin.  Man  has  nothing  that  the  animals 
have  not  at  least  a  vestige  of,  the  animals  nave 
nothing  that  map  does  not  in  some  degree  share 


ou 
fac 
Ca 

an< 
the 


Ga 
hai 
is  r 
anc 
for 
tab! 


■  9 


ins  will 
39,  be- 
k,  by  a 
iS  it  is 
,  that  I 

ounded 
ibed  to 
j{  their 
is  from 

th<  rea- 
ild  ani- 

illy  sug- 
ild  have 
bt  each 
5ste,  but 
fiized  a 

beasts 
animals 
s  nave 

share 


Note  to  the  Reader 

Since,  then,  the  animals  are  creatures  with 
<^ar  ts  and  feelings  differing  in  degree  only  from 
our  own,  they  surely  have  their  rights.  This 
fact,  now  beginning  to  be  recognized  by  the 
Caucasian  world,  was  first  proclaimed  by  Moses 
and  was  emphasized  by  the  Buddhist  over  two 
thousand  years  ago. 

THIS  BOOK  was  made  by  my  wife,  Grace 
Oallatin  Thompson  Seton.  Although  the 
handiwork  throughout  is  my  own,  she  chiefly 
is  responsible  for  designs  of  cover,  title-page, 
and  general  make-up.  Thanks  ar*;  due  her  also 
for  the  literary  revision,  and  for  the  mechanical 
labor  of  seeing  the  book  through  the  press. 


e.ca 


« 


M 


Lobo 

The  King  of 

Currumpaw 


Lobo 

The  King  of  Currumpaw 


I 


jURRUMPAW  is  a  vast  cattle  range  in 
northern  New  Mexico.  It  is  a  land 
of  rich  pastures  and  teeming  flocks 
and  herds,  a  land  of  rolling  mesas  and 
precious  running  waters  that  at  length 
unite  in  the  Currumpaw  River,  from 
which  the  whole  region  is  named. 
And  the  king  whose  despotic  power  was  felt 
over  its  entire  extent  was  an  old  gray  wolC 

Old  Lobo,  or  the  king,  as  the  Mexicans  called 
him,  was  the  gigantic  leader  of  a  remarkable 
pack  of  gray  wolves,  that  had  ravaged  the  Cur- 
rumpaw  Valley  for  a  number  of  years.  All  the 
shepherds  and  ranchmen  knew  him  well,  and, 

m 


Lobo 


wberever  he  appeared  with  his  trusty  band,  xffi 
ror  reigned  supreme  among  the  cattle,  and  wrath 
and  despair  among  their  owners.  Old  Lobo 
was  a  giant  among  wolves,  and  was  cunning  and 
strong  in  proportion  to  his  size.  His  voice  at 
night  was  well-known  and  easily  distinguished 
from  that  of  any  of  his  fellows.  An  ordi- 
nary wolf  might  howl  half  the  night  about  the 
herdsman's  bivouac  without  attracting  more 
than  a  passing  notice,  but  when  the  deep  roar 
of  the  old  king  came  booming  down  the  cafton, 
the  watcher  bestirred  himself  and  prepared  to 
learn  in  the  morning  that  fresh  and  serious  in- 
roads  had  been    made  among  the  herds. 

Old  Lobo's  band  was  but  a  small  one.  Thia 
I  never  quite  understood,  for  usually,  when  a 
wolf  rises  to  the  pr  .ition  and  power  that  he  had, 
he  attracts  a  numerous  following.  It  may  be 
that  he  had  as  many  as  he  desired,  or  perhaps 
his  ferocious  temper  prevented  the  increase  of 
his  pack.  Certain  is  it  that  Lobo  had  only  five 
followers  during  the  latter  part  of  his  reign. 
Each  of  these,  however,  was  a  wolf  of  renown, 
most  of  them  were  above  the  ordinary  size,  one 
in  particular,  the  second  in  command,  was  i 


Lobo 

veritable  giant,  but  even  he  was  fiur  betow  the 
leader  ir  size  and  prowesB.    Several  of  the  \»ii<i, 

besides  the  two  leaders,  were  especially  noted. 
One  of  those  was  a  beautiful  white  wolf,  that 
the  Mexicans  called  Blanca ;  this  was  supposed 
to  be  a  female,  possibly  Lobe's  mate.  Another 
was  u  yellow  wolf  of  remarkable  swiftness,  which, 
according  to  current  stories  had,  on  several  oc* 
casions,  captured  an  antelope  for  the  pack. 

It  will  be  seen,  then,  that  these  wolves  were 
thoroughly  well-known  to  the  cowboys  and 
shepherds.  They  were  frequently  seen  and 
oftener  heard,  and  their  lives  were  intimately 
associated  with  those  of  the  cattlemen,  who 
would  so  gladly  have  destroyed  them.  There 
was  not  a  stockma^i  on  the  Currumpaw  who 
would  not  readily  have  given  the  value  of 
many  steers  for  the  scalp  of  any  one  of  Lobo's 
band,  but  they  seemed  to  possess  charmed  lives, 
and  defied  all  manner  of  devices  lo  kill  them. 
They  scorned  all  hunters,  derided  all  poisons, 
and  continued,  for  at  least  five  years,  to  exact 
Iheir  tribute  from  the  Currumpaw  ranchers  to 
the  extent,  many  said,  of  a  cow  each  day.  Ac- 
cording tf^th\s  estimate,  therefore,  the  band  had 

19 


\ 


Lobo 


killed  more  than  two  thousand  of  the  finest 
■tock,  for,  as  was  only  too  well-known,  they 
■elected  the  best  in  every  instance. 

The  old  idea  that  a  wolf  was  constantly  in  a 
starving  state,  and  therefore  ready  to  eat  any- 
thing, was  as  far  as  possible  from  the  truth  in 
this  case,  for  these  freebooters  were  alway.* 
sleek  and  well-conaitioned,  and  were  in  fact 
most  fastidious  about  what  they  ate.  Any  ani- 
mal  that  had  died  from  natural  causes,  or  that 
was  diseased  or  tainted,  they  would  nut  touch, 
and  they  even  rejected  anything  that  had  been 
killed  by  the  stockmen.  Their  choice  and 
daily  food  was  the  tenderer  part  of  a  freshly 
killed  yearling  heifer.  An  old  bull  or  cow 
they  disdained,  and  though  they  occasionally 
took  a  young  calf  or  colt,  it  was  quite  clear 
that  veal  or  horseflesh  was  not  their  favorite 
diet.  It  was  also  known  that  they  were  not 
fond  of  mutton,  although  they  often  amused 
themselves  by  killing  sheep.  One  night  in 
November,  1893,  Blanca  and  the  yellow  wolf 
killed  two  hundred  and  fifty  sheep,  apparently 
for  the  fun  of  it,  and  did  not  eat  an  ounce  of 
their  flesh. 

ao 


I 


LotK) 


These  are  examples  of  many  stories  which 
I  might  repeat,  to  show  the  ravages  of  this 
destructive  band.  Many  new  devices  for  their 
extinction  were  tried  each  year,  but  still  they 
lived  and  throve  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of 
their  foes.  A  great  price  was  set  on  Lobo's 
head,  and  in  consequence  poison  in  a  score  of 
subtle  forms  was  put  out  for  him,  but  he  never 
failed  to  detect  and  avoid  it.  One  thing  only 
he  feared — that  was  firearms,  and  knowing  full 
well  that  all  men  in  this  region  carried  them, 
he  never  was  known  to  attack  or  face  a  human 
being.  Indeed,  the  set  policy  of  his  band  was 
to  take  refuge  in  flight  whenever,  in  the  day- 
time, a  mail  was  descried,  no  matter  at  what 
distance.  Lobo's  habit  of  permitting  the  pack 
to  eat  only  that  which  they  themselves  had 
killed,  was  in  numerous  cases  their  salvation, 
and  the  keenness  of  his  scent  to  detect  the  taint 
of  human  hands  or  the  poison  itself,  completed 
their  immunity. 

On  one  occasion,  one  of  the  cowboys  heard 
the  too  familiar  rallying-cry  of  Old  Lobo,  and 
stealthily  approaching,  he  found  the  Currum- 
l^w  pack  in  a  hollow,  where  they  had  '  round- 


Lobo 

ed  up  *  a  small  herd  of  cattle.  Lobo  sat  apart 
on  a  knoll,  while  Blanca  with  the  rest  was  en- 
deavoring to  '  cut  out '  a  young  cow,  ivhich 
they  had  selected  ;  but  the  cattle  were  standing 
in  a  compact  mass  with  their  heads  outward, 
and  presented  to  the  foe  a  line  of  horns,  un- 
broken save  when  some  cow,  frightened  by  a 
fresh  onset  of  the  wolves,  tried  to  retreat  into 
the  middle  of  the  herd,  it  was  only  by  taking 
advantage  of  these  l)reaks  that  the  wolves  had 
succeeded  at  all  in  wounding  the  selected  cow, 
but  she  was  far  from  being  disabled,  and  it 
seemed  that  Lobo  at  length  lost  patience  with 
his  followers,  for  he  jft  his  position  on  the  hill, 
and,  uttering  a  deep  roar,  dashed  toward  the  herd. 
The  terrified  rank  broke  at  his  charge,  and  he 
sprang  in  among  them.  Then  the  cattle  scattered 
ike  the  pieces  of  a  bursting  bomb.  Away  went 
the  chosen  victim,  but  ere  she  had  gone  twenty- 
five  yards  Lobo  was  upon  her.  Seizing  her  by 
the  neck  he  suddenly  held  back  with  all  his 
force  and  so  threw  her  heavily  to  the  ground. 
The  shock  must  have  been  tremendous,  for  the 
heifer  was  thrown  heels  over  head  Lobo  also 
turned  a  somersault,  but  fmrnpdi^telf  recovered 


>-^, 


[ 


LX>bO 


himself,  and  his  followers  falling  on  the  poor 
cow,  killed  her  in  a  few  seconds.  Lobo  took 
no  part  in  the  killing — after  having  thrown  the 
victim,  he  seemed  to  say,  ••  Now,  why  could 
not  some  of  you  have  done  that  at  once  with> 
out  wasting  so  much  time?" 

The  man  now  rode  up  shouting,  the  wolves 
as  usual  retired,  and  he,  having  a  bottle  of 
strychnine,  quickly  poisoned  the  carcass  in 
three  places,  then  went  away,  knowing  they 
would  return  to  feed,  as  they  had  killed  the 
animal  themselves.  But  next  morning,  on  go- 
ing to  look  for  his  expected  victims,  he  found 
that,  although  the  wolves  had  eaten  the  heifer, 
they  had  carefully  cut  out  and  thrown  aside  all 
those  parts  diat  had  been  poisoned. 

The  dread  of  this  great  wolf  spread  yearly 
among  the  ranchmen,  and  each  year  a  larger 
price  was  set  on  his  head,  until  at  last  it  reached 
{i,o<^o,  an  unparalleled  wolf-bounty,  surely; 
many  a  good  man  has  been  hunted  down  for 
less.  Tempted  by  the  promised  reward,  a 
Texan  ranger  named  Tannerey  came  one  day 
galloping  up  the  cafion  of  the  Currumpaw.  He 
had  a  superb  outfit  for  wolf-hunting — the  best 


*s 


!  i 


Lobo 


\ 


in 


of  guns  and  horses,  and  a  pack  of  enormots 
wolf-hounds.  Far  out  on  the  plains  of  the 
Pan-handle,  he  and  his  dogs  had  killed  many 
a  wolf,  and  now  he  never  doubted  that,  within 
a  few  days,  old  Lobo's  scalp  would  dangle  at 
his  saddle-bow. 

Away  they  went  bravely  on  their  hunt  in  the 
gray  dawn  of  a  summer  morning,  and  soon  the 
great  dogs  gave  joyous  tongue  to  say  that  they 
were  already  on  the  track  of  their  quarry. 
Within  two  miles,  the  grizzly  band  of  Cur- 
rumpaw  leaped  into  view,  and  the  chase  grew 
fast  and  furious.  The  part  of  the  wolf-hounds 
was  merely  to  hold  the  wolves  at  bay  till  the 
hunter  could  ride  up  and  shoot  them,  and  this 
usually  was  easy  on  the  oj)en  plains  of  Texas  ; 
but  here  a  new  feature  of  the  country  came  into 
play,  and  showed  how  well  Lobo  had  chosen 
his  range ;  for  the  rocky  caflons  of  the  Currum- 
paw  and  its  tributaries  intersect  the  prairies  in 
every  direction.  The  old  wolf  at  once  made 
for  the  nearest  of  these  and  by  crossing  it 
got  rid  of  tlie  horsemen.  His  band  then  scat- 
tered and  thereby  scattered  the  dogs,  and  when 
they  reunited  at  a  distant  point  of  course  all  of 

26 


normous 
1  of  the 
:d  many 
:,  within 
langle  at 

nt  in  the 
soon  the 
that  they 

quarry, 
of  Cur- 
lase  grew 
If-hounds 
r  till  the 
,  and  this 
if  Texas  ; 
ame  into 
d  chosen 

Currum- 
irairies  in 
ice  made 
Dssing    it 

len  scat- 
ind  when 
irse  all  of 


TaniiL'ry,  with  hii  dog's,  came  galloping  up  tlic  canon. 


f 


■* 


I 


/■ 

\ 

• 

■  'y 

y 

. 

1: 

*• 

if. 

1; 

Lobo 

the  dogs  did  not  turn  up,  and  the  wolves  nc 
longer  outnumbered,  turned  on  their  pursuers 
and  killed  or  desperately  wounded  them  all, 
That  night  when  Tannerey  mustered  his  dogs, 
only  six  of  them  returned,  and  of  these,  two 
were  terribly  lacerated.  This  hunter  made 
two  other  attempts  to  capture  the  royal  scalp, 
but  neither  of  them  was  more  successful  than 
the  first,  and  on  the  last  occasion  his  best 
horse  met  its  death  by  a  fall ;  so  he  gave  up 
the  chase  in  disgust  and  went  back  to  Texas, 
leaving  Lobo  more  than  ever  the  despot  of  the 
region. 

Next  year,  two  other  hunters  appeared,  de- 
termined to  win  the  promised  bounty.  Each 
believed  he  could  destroy  this  noted  wolf,  the 
first  by  means  of  a  newly  devised  poison,  which 
was  to  be  laid  out  in  an  entirely  new  manner ; 
the  other  a  French  Canadian,  by  poison  as- 
sisted with  certain  spells  and  charms,  for  he 
firmly  believed  that  Lobo  was  a  veritable 
•loup-garou,'  and  could  not  be  killed  by  or- 
dinary means.  But  cunningly  compounded 
poisons,  charms,  and  incantations  were  all  of 
£tO  avail  against  this  grizzly  devastator.     He 

29 


Lobo 

made  his  weekly  rounds  and  daily  banquets  as 
aforetime,  and  before  many  weeks  had  passed, 
Calone  and  Laloche  gave  up  in  despair  and 
went  elsewhere  to  hunt. 

In  the  spring  of  1893,  after  his  unsuccessful 
htfempt  to  capture  Lobo,  Joe  Calone  had  a 
humiliating  experience,  which  seems  to  show 
that  the  big  wolf  simply  scorned  his  enemies, 
and  had  absolute  confidence  in  himself.  Ca 
ione's  farm  was  on  a  small  tributary  of  the 
Currumpaw,  in  a  picturesque  cafion,  and  among 
the  rocks  of  this  very  cafSon,  within  a  thousand 
yards  of  the  house,  old  Lobo  and  his  mate  se- 
lected their  den  and  raised  their  family  that 
season.  There  they  lived  all  summer,  and 
killed  Joe's  cattle,  sheep,  and  dogs,  but  laughed 
at  all  his  poisons  and  traps,  and  rested  securely 
among  the  recesses  of  the  cavernous  cliffs,  while 
Joe  vainly  racked  his  brain  for  some  method  of 
smoking  them  out,  or  of  reaching  them  with 
dynamite.  But  they  escaped  entirely  unscathed, 
and  continued  their  ravages  as  before.  "  There's 
where  he  lived  all  last  summer,"  said  Joe, 
pointing  to  the  face  of  the  cliff,  "and  I  couldn't 
do  a  thing  with  him.    I  was  like  a  fool  to  him. " 

3« 


1^' 


Lobo 


This  history,  gathered  so  fiar  from  the  cow- 
boys, I  found  hard  to  believe  until  in  the  Call 
of  1893,  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  wilf 
marauder,  and  at  length  came  to  know  him 
more  thoroughly  than  anyone  else.  Some 
years  before,  in  the  Bingo  days,  I  had  been 
•  wolf-hunter,  but  my  occupations  since  then 
had  been  of  another  sort,  chaining  me  to  stool 
and  desk.  I  was  much  in  need  of  a  change, 
and  when  a  friend,  who  was  also  a  ranch  owner 
on  the  Currumpaw,  asked  me  to  come  to  New 
Mexico  and  try  if  I  could  do  anything  with 
this  predatory  pack,  I  accepted  the  invitation 
and,  eager  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  ita 
king,  was  as  soon  as  possible  among  the  mesas 
of  that  region.  I  spent  some  time  riding  about 
to  learn  the  country,  and  at  intervals,  my  guide 
would  point  to  the  skeleton  of  a  cow  to  which 
the  hide  still  adhered,  and  remark,  "That's 
some  of  his  work."  , 

It  became  quite  clear  to  me  that,  in  this 
rough  country,  it  was  useless  to  thiiii  of  pur- 

31 


!      . 

i 


Lobo 

suing  Lobo  with  hounds  and  horses,  so  that 
poison  or  traps  were  the  only  available  expe- 
dients. At  present  we  had  no  traps  large 
enough,  so  I  set  to  work  with  poison. 

I  need  not  enter  into  the  details  of  a  hoa- 
dred  devices  that  I  employed  to  circumvent 
this  '  loup-garou  ' ;  there  was  no  combination 
of  strychnine,  arsenic,  cyanide,  or  prussic  acid, 
that  I  did  not  essay ;  there  was  no  manner  of 
flesh  that  I  did  not  try  as  bait ;  but  morning 
after  morning,  as  I  rode  forth  to  learn  the  result, 
I  found  that  all  my  efforts  had  been  useless. 
The  old  king  was  too  cunning  for  me.  A 
single  instance  will  show  his  wonderful  sagacitjr. 
Acting  on  the  hint  of  an  old  trapper,  I  melted 
some  cheese  together  with  the  kidney  fat  of  a 
freshly  killed  heifer,  stewing  it  in  a  china  dish, 
and  cutting  it  with  a  bone  knife  to  avoid  the 
taint  of  metal.  When  the  mixture  was  cool,  I 
cut  it  into  lumps,  and  making  a  hole  in  one 
side  of  each  lump,  I  inserted  a  large  dose  of 
Strychnine  and  cyanide,  contained  in  a  capsule 
that  was  impermeable  by  any  odor  j  finally  I 
sealed  the  holes  up  with  pieces  of  the  cheese 
'tself.     During  the  whole  process,  I  wore  a 

3a 


I 


. 


f 

i 

I 
li 

I 

I; 


Lobo 

pair  (/  gloves  steeped  in  the  hot  blood  of  the 
heifer,  and  even  avoided  breathing  on  the 
baits.  When  all  was  ready,  I  put  them  in  a 
raw-hide  bag  rubbed  all  over  with  blood,  and 
rode  forth  dragging  the  liver  and  kidneys  of 
the  beef  at  the  end  of  a  rope.  With  this  I 
made  a  ten-mile  circuit,  dropping  a  bait  at 
each  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  taking  the  utmost 
care,  always,  not  to  touch  any  with  my  hands. 

Lobo,  generally,  came  into  this  part  of  the 
range  in  the  early  part  of  each  week,  and 
passed  the  latter  part,  it  was  supposed,  around 
the  base  of  Sierra  Grande.  This  was  Monday, 
and  that  same  evening,  as  we  were  about  to 
retire,  I  heard  the  deep  bass  howl  of  his  ma- 
jesty. On  hearing  it  one  of  the  boys  briefly  re- 
marked, '*  There  he  is,  we'll  see." 

The  next  morning  I  went  forth,  eager  to 
know  the  result.  I  soon  came  on  the  iresh 
trail  of  the  robbers,  with  Lobo  in  the  lead — his 
track  was  always  easily  distinguished.  An  or- 
dinary wolfs  forefoot  is  4}4  inches  long,  that 
of  a  large  wolf  4^  inches,  out  Lobo's,  as 
measured  a  number  of  times,  was  $}4  inches 
from  claw  to  heel ;  I  afterward  found  that  his 

33 


^N4 


Lobo 

other  proportions  were  commensurate,  for  he 
stood  three  feet  high  at  the  shoulder,  and 
weighed  150  pounds.  His  trail,  therefore, 
though  obscured  by  those  of  his  followers,  was 
never  difficult  to  trace.  The  pack  had  soon 
found  the  track  of  my  drag,  and  as  usual  foU 
lowed  it.  I  could  see  that  Lobo  had  come  to 
the  first  bait,  sniffed  about  it,  and  finally  had 
picked  it  up. 

Then  I  could  not  conceal  my  delight.  **  I've 
got  him  at  last,"  I  exclaimed  ;  "  I  shall  find 
him  stark  within  a  mile,"  and  I  galloped  on 
with  eager  eyes  fixed  on  the  great  broad  track 
in  the  dust.  It  led  me  to  the  second  bait  and 
that  also  was  gone.  How  I  exulted — I  surely 
have  him  now  and  perhaps  several  of  his  band. 
But  there  was  the  broad  paw-mark  still  on  the 
drag ;  and  though  I  stood  in  the  stirrup  and 
scanned  the  plain  I  saw  nothing  that  looked 
like  a  dead  wolf.  Again  I  followed — to  find 
now  that  the  third  bait  was  gone — and  the 
king-wolfs  track  led  on  to  the  fouith,  there  to 
learn  that  he  had  not  really  taken  a  bait  at  all, 
but  had  merely  carried  them  in  his  mouth. 
Then  having  piled  the  three  on  the  fourth,  he 

34 


Lotx) 

•cattered  fiJ>th  ovet  tnem  to  exprea>  hn  urce. 
contempt  foi  my  devices  Aftei  this  he  left 
my  drag  and  went  at)Out  his  business  with  thr 
pack  he  guarded  so  effectively 

This  is  only  one  of  many  similar  experiences 
which  convinced  me  that  poison  woi  Id  never 
avail  to  destroy  this  robber,  and  though  I  con- 
tinued to  use  it  while  awaiting  the  arrival  o! 
the  traps,  it  was  only  because  it  was  meanwhile 
a  sure  means  of  killing  many  prairie  wolves  and 
other  destructive*  vermin, 

About  this  time  there  came  under  my  obser 
vation  an  incident  that  will  illustrate  Lobo's 
diabolic  cunning  These  wolves  had  at  least 
one  pursuit  which  was  merely  an  amusement,  it 
was  ctampeding  and  killing  sheep,  though  they 
rarely  ate  them.  The  sheep  are  usually  kept  in 
flocks  of  from  one  '.  liousand  to  three  thousand 
under  one  or  more  shepherds.  At  night  they 
are  gathered  in  the  most  sheltered  place  avail- 
able, and  a  herdsman  sleeps  on  each  side  of  the 
flock  to  give  additional  protection.  Sheep  are 
such  senseless  creatures  that  they  are  liable  to 
be  stampeded  by  the  veriest  trifle,  but  they 
bave  deeply  ingrained  in  their  nature  one,  and 

3S 


i^ 


Lobo 

perhaps  only  one,  strong  weakness,  name'iy,  tt 
follow  their  leader.  And  this  the  shepherds 
turn  to  good  account  by  putting  half  a  dozen 
goats  in  the  flock  of  sheep.  The  latter  recog 
nize  the  superior  intelligence  of  their  bearded 
cousins,  and  when  a  night  alarm  occurs  they 
crowd  around  them,  and  usually  are  thus  saved 
from  a  stampede  and  are  easily  protected.  But  it 
was  not  always  so.  One  night  late  in  last  No- 
vember, two  Perico  shepherds  were  aroused  by 
an  onset  of  wolves.  Their  flocks  huddled 
aroimd  the  goats,  which  being  neither  fools 
nor  cowards,  stood  their  ground  and  were 
bravely  defiant ;  but  alas  for  them,  no  common 
wolf  was  heading  this  attack.  Old  Lobo,  thr 
weir-wolf,  knew  as  well  as  the  shepherds  that 
the  goats  were  the  moral  foroe  of  the  flock,  so 
hastily  running  over  the  backs  of  the  densely 
packed  stieep,  he  fell  on  these  leaders,  "'ew 
them  all  in  a  few  minutes,  and  soon  hid  the 
luckless  sheep  stampeding  in  a  thousand  differ' 
ent  directions.  For  weeks  afterward  I  was  al- 
most daily  accosted  by  some  anxious  shepherd, 
who  asked,  "  Have  you  seen  any  stray  OTO 
•heep  lately  ?  "  and  usually  I  was  obliged  t« 

36 


H 


Ml 


\ 


c 

1 

a 


^ 


Lobo 

«»y  i  had ,  one  day  «  was^  '*  YeSj,  I  came  oi> 
some  five  or  six  carcasses  by  Diamond  Springs; " 
or  another,  it  was  to  tlie  effect  that  I  liad  seen  /; 
a  small  *  \  unch '  running  on  the  Malpai  Mesa  ; 
or  again,  "  No,  but  Juan  Meira  saw  about 
twenty,  freshly  killed,  on  the  Cedra  Monte 
two  days  ago." 

At  length  the  wolf  traps  avilved,  and  with 
two  men  I  worked  a  whole  week  to  get  them 
projjerly  set  out.  We  spared  no  labor  or  pains, 
I  adopted  every  device  I  could  think  of  that 
might  help  to  insure  success.  The  second  day 
after  the  traps  arrived,  I  rode  around  to  inspect, 
and  soon  came  ui)on  Lobo's  trail  running  from 
trap  to  trap.  In  the  dust  I  could  read  the 
whole  story  of  his  doings  that  night.  He  had 
trotted  along  in  the  darkness,  and  although  the 
traps  were  so  carefully  concealed,  he  had  in- 
(Stantly  detected  the  first  one.  Stopping  the 
onward  march  of  the  pack,  he  had  cautiously 
scratched  around  it  until  he  had  disclosed  the 
trap,  the  chain,  and  the  log,  then  left  them 
vholly  exposed  to  view  with  the  trap  still  un- 
sprung, and  passing  on  he  treated  over  a  dozen 
trap9  in  the  same  fashion.     Very  soon  I  noticed 

St 


uobo 


that  he  stopped  and  turned  aside  as  soon  as 
he  detected  suspicious  signs  on  the  trail  and  a 
new  plan  to  outwit  him  at  once  suggested  itseh. 
I  set  the  traps  in  the  form  of  an  H ;  that  is, 
with  a  row  of  traps  on  each  side  of  the  trail, 
and  one  on  the  trail  for  the  cross-bar  of  the  H. 
Before  long,  I  had  an  opportunity  to  count  an- 
other failure.  Lobo  came  trotting  along  the  trail, 
and  was  fairly  between  the  parallel  lines  be- 
fore he  detected  the  single  trap  in  the  trail,  but 
he  stopped  in  time,  and  why  or  how  he  knew 
enough  I  cannot  tell,  ihe  Angel  of  the  wild 
things  must  have  been  with  him,  but  without 
turning  an  inch  to  the  right  or  left,  he  slowly 
and  cautiously  backed  on  his  own  tracks,  put- 
ting each  paw  exactly  in  its  old  track  until  he 
was  off  the  dangerous  ground.  Then  returning 
at  one  side  he  scratched  clods  and  stones  with 
his  hind  feet  till  he  had  sprung  every  trap.  This 
he  did  on  many  other  occasions,  and  although 
I  varied  my  methods  and  redoubled  my  precau- 
tions,  he  was  never  deceived,  his  sagacity  seemed 
never  at  fault,  and  he  might  have  been  pursuing 
his  career  of  rapine  to-day,  but  for  an  unfortu- 
nate  alliance  that  proved  his  ruin  and  added 
his  name  to  the  long  list  o(  heroes  who,  unassail* 

40 


oon  ai 

[  and  a 
1  itseli. 
hat  is, 
;  trail, 
theH. 
int  an- 
te trail, 
les  be- 
lil,  but 
e  knew 
le  wild 
ivithout 
slowl]f 
cs,  put- 
intil  he 
lurning 
es  with 
.   This 
though 
)recau« 
eemed 
irsuing 
ifortu- 
added 
assail* 


i 
I 

2 


f: 


Lobo 

able  when  alone,  have  fallen  through  the  India* 
cretion  of  a  trusted  ally. 

m 

Once  or  twice,  I  had  found  indications  that 
everything  was  not  quite  right  in  the  Currum- 
pav/  pack.  There  were  signs  of  irregularity,  I 
thought ;  for  instance  there  was  clearly  the  trail 
of  a  smaller  wolf  running  ahead  of  the  leader, 
at  times,  and  this  I  could  not  understand  until 
a  cowboy  made  a  remark  which  explained  the 
matter. 

"  I  saw  them  to-r^ay,  "  he  said,  *'  and  the 
wild  one  that  bieaks  away  is  Blanca."  Then 
the  truth  dawned  upon  me,  and  I  added,  "  Now, 
I  know  that  Blanca  is  a  she-wolf,  because  were 
a  he-wolf  to  act  thus,  Lobo  would  kill  him  at 
once." 

This  suggested  a  new  plan.  I  killed  a  heifer, 
and  set  one  or  two  rather  obvious  traps  about 
the  carcass.  Then  cutting  off  the  head,  which 
"s  considered  useless  offal,  and  quite  beneath 
the  notice  of  a  wolf,  I  set  it  a  little  apart  and 
around  it  placed  two  powerful  steel  traps  proper- 

43 


cr.  -»  j^ 


v:^w^ 


Lobo 

ly  deodorized  and  concealed  with  the  utmost 
care.  During  my  operations  I  kept  my  hands, 
boots,  and  implements  smeared  with  fresh  blood, 
and  afterward  sprinkled  the  ground  with  the 
same,  as  though  it  had  flowed  from  the  head  ; 
and  when  the  traps  were  buried  in  the  dust  I 
brushed  the  place  over  with  the  skin  of  a  coyote, 
and  with  a  foot  of  the  same  animal  made  a 
number  of  tracks  over  the  traps.  The  head 
was  so  placed  thcit  there  was  a  narrow  passage 
between  it  and  some  tusso'is,  and  in  this  pas- 
sage I  buried  two  of  mj  jest  traps,  fastening 
them  to  the  head  itself. 

Wolves  have  a  habit  of  approaching  every 
carcass  they  get  the  wind  of,  in  order  to  ex- 
amine it,  even  when  they  have  no  intention  of 
eating  of  it,  and  I  hoped  that  this  habit  would 
bring  the  Currumpaw  pack  within  reach  of  my 
latest  stratagem.  I  did  not  doubt  that  Lobo 
would  detect  my  handiwork  about  the  meat, 
and  prevent  the  pack  approaching  it,  but  I  did 
build  some  hopes  on  the  head,  for  it  looked  as 
though  it  had  been  thrown  aside  as  useless.     "^ 

Next  morning,  I  sdlied  forth  to  inspect  the 
traps,  and  there,  oh,  joy!  were  the  tracks  of 

44 


V. 


Lobo 

the  pack,  and  the  place  where  the  beef-head 
and  its  traps  had  been  was  empty.  A  hasty 
study  of  the  trail  showed  that  Lobo  had  kept 
the  pack  from  approaching  the  meat,  but  one, 
a  small  wolf,  had  evidently  gone  on  to  examine 
the  head  as  it  lay  apart  and  had  walked  right 
into  one  of  the  traps. 

We  set  out  on  the  trail,  and  within  a  mile 
discovered  that  the  hapless  wolf  was  Blanca. 
Away  she  went,  however,  at  a  gallop,  and  al- 
though encumbered  by  the  beef- head,  which 
weighed  over  fifty  pounds,  she  speedily  dis- 
tanced my  companion  who  was  on  foot.  But 
we  overtook  her  when  she  reached  the  rocks, 
for  the  horns  of  the  cow's  head  became  caught 
and  held  her  fast.  She  was  the  handsomest 
wolf  I  had  ever  seen.  Her  coat  was  in  perfect 
condition  and  nearly  white. 

She  turned  to  fight,  and  raising  her  voice 
in  the  rallying  cry  of  her  race,  sent  a  long 
howl  rolling  over  the  cafion.  From  far  away 
upon  the  mesa  came  a  deep  response,  the  cry 
of  Old  Lobo.  That  was  her  last  call,  for  now 
we  had  closed  in  on  her,  and  all  her  energy  and 
breath  were  devoted  to  combat. 


•«r 


•  •  •  A 

•  ;♦ 


<0 


4^  -  */ 


j» 


4» 


t 


« 


t 


•    ^ 


^    ^ 


^  ^ 


* 


9 


*i«i*i 


.♦ 


f 


« 


f 


•     •rw 


Lobo 


Then  followed  the  inevitable  tragedy,  the 
idea  of  which  I  shrank  from  afterward  more 
than  at  the  time.  We  each  threw  a  'asso  over 
the  neck  of  the  doomed  wolf,  and  strained  our 
horses  in  opposite  directions  until  the  blood 
burst  from  her  mouth,  her  eyes  glazed,  her 
limbs  stiffened  and  then  fell  limp.  HoAwWard 
then  we  rode,  carrying  the  dead  wolf,  and  ex- 
ulting over  this,  the  first  death-blow  we  had 
been  able  to  inflict  on  the  Currumpaw  pack. 

At  intervals  during  the  tragedy,  and  afterward 
as  we  rode  homeward,  we  heard  the  roar  of 
Lobo  as  he  wandered  about  on  the  distant 
mesas,  where  he  seemed  to  be  searching  for 
Blanca.  He  had  never  really  deserted  her,  but 
knowing  that  he  could  not  save  her,  his  deep- 
rooted  dread  of  firearms  had  been  too  much  for 
him  when  he  saw  us  approaching.  All  that  day 
we  heard  him  wailing  as  he  roamed  in  his  quest, 
and  I  remarked  at  length  to  one  of  the  boys, 
'•  Now,  indeed,  I  truly  know  that  Blanca  was 
bis  mate." 

As  evening  fell  he  seemed  to  be  coming  tow- 
ard the  home  caflon,  for  his  voice  sounded  con- 
tinually  nearer.     There  was  an  unmistakable 

46 


igedy,  the 
ward  more 
\\sso  over 
irained  our 
the  blood 
;Iazed,  her 
HoAwward 
ilf,  and  ex- 
iw  we  had 
w  pack.  . 
d  afterward 
he  roar  of 
the  distant 
irching  for 
ed  her,  but 
r,  his  deep- 

0  much  for 
i.\\  that  day 

1  his  quest, 
f  the  boys, 
Blanca  was 

miing  tow- 
unded  con- 
mistakable 


Lobo 

note  ot  sorrow  in  it  now.  It  was  no  longer  the 
loud,  defiant  howl,  but  a  long,  plaintive  wail ; 
<<  Blanca  I  Blanca !  "  he  seemed  to  call.  And 
as  night  came  down,  I  noticed  that  he  was  not 
far  from  the  place  where  we  had  overtaken  her. 
At  length  he  seemed  to  find  the  trail,  and  when 
he  came  to  the  spot  where  we  had  killed  her, 
his  heart-broken  wailing  was  piteous  to  hear. 
It  was  sadder  than  I  could  possibly  have  be* 
lieved.  Even  the  stcUd  cowboys  noticed  it, 
and  said  they  had  "  ne\^r  heard  a  wolf  carry 
on  like  that  before."  He  seemed  to  know  ex- 
actly what  had  taken  place,  for  her  blood  ha^ 
stained  the  place  of  her  death. 

Then  he  took  up  the  trail  of  the  horses  and 
followed  it  to  the  ranch-house.  Whether  in 
hoi)es  of  finding  her  there,  or  in  quest  of  re- 
venge,  I  know  not,  but  the  latter  was  what  he 
found,  for  he  suri)rised  our  unfortunate  watch- 
dog outside  and  tore  him  to  little  bits  within  fifty 
yards  of  the  door.  He  evidently  came  alone 
tnis  time,  for  I  found  but  one  trail  next  morn- 
ing, and  he  had  galloped  a^cat  in  a  reckless 
manner  that  was  very  unusual  with  him.  I  bad 
half  expected  this,  and  had  set  »  number  of  ad- 

47 


Lobo 


ditional  traps  about  the  pasture.  Afterward  I 
found  that  he  had  indeed  fallen  into  one  of 
these,  but  such  was  his  strength,  he  had  torn 
himself  loose  and  cast  it  aside. 

I  believed  that  he  would  continue  in  the 
neighborhood  until  he  found  her  body  at  least, 
so  I  concentrated  all  my  energies  on  this  one 
enterprise  of  catching  him  before  he  left  the 
region,  and  while  yet  in  this  reckless  mood. 
Then  I  realized  what  a  mistake  I  had  made  in 
killing  Blanca,  for  by  using  her  as  a  decoy  I 
might  have  secured  him  the  next  night. 

I  gathered  in  all  the  traps  I  could  command, 
one  hundred  and  thirty  strong  steel  wolf-traps, 
and  set  them  in  fours  in  every  trail  that  led  into 
the  cafion ;  each  trap  was  separately  fastened  to 
a  log,  and  each  log  was  separately  buried.  In 
burying  them,  I  carefully  removed  the  sod  and 
every  particle  of  earth  that  was  lifted  we  put 
in  blankets,  so  that  after  the  sod  was  replaced 
and  all  was  finished  the  eye  could  detect  no  trace 
of  human  handiwork.  When  the  traps  were 
concealed  1  trailed  the  body  of  poor  Blanca 
over  each  place,  and  made  of  it  a  drag  that 
circled  all  about  the  ranch,  and  finally  I  took 

48 


Lobo 

ofTotie  of  her  paws  and  made  with  it  a  line  of 
tracks  over  each  trap.  Every  precaution  and 
device  known  to  me  I  used,  and  retired  at  a  late 
hour  to  await  the  result. 

Once  during  the  night  I  thought  I  heard  Old 
Lobo,  but  was  not  sure  of  it.  Next  day  I  rode 
around,  but  darkness  came  on  before  I  completed 
the  circuit  of  the  north  cafion,  and  I  had  noth- 
ing to  report.  At  supper  one  of  the  cowboys 
said,  "  There  was  a  great  row  among  the  cattle 
in  the  north  cafion  this  rooming,  maybe  there 
is  something  in  the  traps  there."  It  was  after- 
noon  of  the  next  day  before  I  got  to  the  place  re- 
ferred to,  and  as  I  drew  near  a  great  grizzly  form 
arose  from  the  ground,  vainly  endeavoring  to 
escape,  and  there  revealed  before  me  stood  Lobo, 
King  of  the  Currumpaw,  firmly  held  in  the 
traps.  Poor  old  hero,  he  had  never  ceased  to 
•earch  for  his  darling,  and  when  he  found  thA 
trail  her  body  had  made  he  followed  it  reckless- 
ly, and  so  fell  into  the  snare  prepared  for  him. 
There  he  lay  in  the  iron  grasp  of  all  four  traps, 
perfectly  helpless,  and  all  around  him  were  nu- 
merous tracks  showing  how  the  cattle  had  gath- 
ved  about  him  to  insult  the  fallen  despot,  without 

49 


P'i! 


Lobo 


daring  to  approach  within  his  reach.  For  two 
days  and  cwo  nights  he  had  lain  there,  and  now 
was  worn  out  with  struggling.  Yet,  when  I  went 
near  him,  he  rose  up  with  bristling  mane  and 
raised  his  voice,  and  for  the  last  time  made  the 
caflon  reverberate  with  his  deep  bass  roar,  a  call 
for  help,  the  muster  call  of  his  band.  But  there 
was  none  to  answer  him,  and,  left  alone  in  his 
extremity,  he  whirled  about  with  all  his  strength 
and  made  a  desperate  effort  to  get  at  me.  All 
in  vain,  each  trap  was  a  dead  drag  of  over  three 
hundred  pounds,  and  in  their  relentless  fourfold 
grasp,  with  great  steel  jaws  on  every  foot,  and  the 
heavy  logs  and  chains  all  entangled  together, 
he  was  absolutely  powerlf^.  How  his  huge 
ivory  tusks  did  grind  on  tin  se  cruel  chains,  and 
when  I  ventured  to  touch  him  with  my  rifle- 
barrel  he  left  grooves  on  it  which  are  there  to 
this  day.  His  eyes  glared  green  wit'^  hate  and 
fury,  and  his  jaws  snapped  with  ..  hollow 
'  chop,'  as  he  vainly  endeavored  to  reach  me 
and  my  trembling  horse.  But  he  was  worn 
out  with  hunger  and  struggling  and  loss  of 
blood,  and  he  soon  sank  exhausted  to  the 
ground. 

SO 


For  two 
;,  and  now 
lien  I  went 
mane  and 
!  made  the 
roar,  a  call 

But  there 
lone  in  his 
is  strength 

me.  All 
over  three 
!ss  fourfold 
ot,  and  the 
I  together, 
f  his  huge 
:hains,  and 
li  my  rifle- 
ire  there  to 
,'■«  hate  and 

i.  hollow 
)  reach  me 

was  worn 
nd  loss  of 
ted  to  the 


Ubo 

Something  like  compunction  came  over  me, 
IS  I  prepared  to  deal  out  to  him  that  which  so 
many  had  suffered  at  his  hands. 

"Grand  old  outlaw,  hero  of  a  thousand  law- 
less raids,  in  a  few  minutes  you  will  be  but  a 
great  load  of  carrion.  It  cannot  be  otherwise." 
Then  I  swung  my  lasso  and  sent  it  whistling 
over  his  head.  But  not  so  fast ;  he  was  yet  far 
from  being  subdued,  and,  before  the  supple 
coils  had  fallen  on  his  neck  he  seized  the  noose 
and,  with  one  fierce  chop,  cut  through  its  hard 
thick  strands,  and  dropped  it  in  two  pieces  at 
his  feet. 

Of  course  I  had  my  rifle  as  a  last  resource,  but 
I  did  not  wish  to  spoil  his  royal  hide,  so  I  gal- 
loped back  to  the  camp  and  returned  with  a 
cowboy  and  a  fresh  lasso.  We  threw  to  our 
victim  a  stick  of  wood  which  he  seized  in  his 
teeth,  and  before  he  could  relinquish  it  our 
\assoes  whistled  through  the  air  and  tightened 
•n  his  neck. 

Yet  before  the  light  had  died  from  his  fierce 
eyes,  I  cried,  *'  Stay,  we  will  not  kill  him  ;  let 
OS  take  him  alive  to  the  camp."  He  was  so 
con  pletely  powerless  now  that  it  was  easy  to 

%i 


I 


Ldbo 

p4it  a  stout  stick  through  his  mouth,  behind  hia 
tusks,  and  then  lash  his  jaws  with  a  heavy  cord 
which  was  also  fastened  to  the  stick.  The  stick 
kept  the  cord  in,  and  the  cord  kept  the  stick 
in  so  he  was  harmless.  As  soon  as  he  felt  hi? 
jaws  were  tied  he  made  no  further  resistance, 
and  uttered  no  jound,  but  looked  calmly  ct  us 
and  seemed  to  say,  "  Well,  you  have  got  me  at 
last,  do  as  you  please  with  me."  And  from  that 
time  he  took  no  more  notice  of  us. 

We  tied  his  feet  securely,  but  he  nevei 
groaned,  nor  growled,  nor  turned  his  head. 
Then  with  our  united  strength  were  just  able  to 
put  him  on  my  hoi'S';.  His  breath  came  evenly 
as  though  s!f.  jping,  and  his  eyes  were  bright 
and  clear  agaui;  but  dif^  not  rest  on  us.  Afar 
on  the  great  rolling  mesas  they  were  fixed,  his 
passing  kingdom,  where  his  famous  band  was 
now  scattered.  And  he  gazed  till  the  pony 
descended  the  pathway  into  the  cafion,  and  the 
rocks  cut  off  the  view. 

By  travelling  slowly  we  reached  the  ranch  in 
safety,  and  after  securing  him  with  a  collar  and 
astrong  chain,  we  staked  him  out  in  the  past- 
ajre  and  removed  the  cords     Then  for  the  firs* 

Si 


% 


U^' 


Lobo 

time  I  could  examine  him  closely,  and  proved 
how  unreliable  is  vulgar  report  when  a  living 
hero  or  tyrant  is  concerned.  He  had  not  a 
collar  of  gold  about  his  neck,  nor  was  there  on 
his  shoulders  an  inverted  cross  to  denote  that 
he  had  leagued  himself  with  Satan.  But  I  did 
find  on  one  haunch  a  great  broad  scar,  that 
tradition  says  was  the  fang-mark  of  Juno,  the 
leader  of  Tannerey's  wolf-hounds  —  a  mark 
which  she  gave  him  the  moment  before  he 
stretched  her  lifeless  on  the  sand  of  the  cafion. 

I  set  meat  and  water  beside  him,  but  he  paid 
no  heed.  He  lay  calmly  on  his  breast,  and 
gazed  with  those  steadfast  yellow  eyes  away 
past  me  down  through  the  gateway  of  the  cafion, 
over  the  open  plains — his  plains — nor  moved  a 
muscle  when  I  touched  him.  When  the  sun 
went  down  he  was  still  gazing  fixedly  across  the 
prairie.  I  expected  he  would  call  up  his  band 
when  night  <;ame,  and  prepared  for  them,  but 
he  had  called  once  in  hrs  extremity,  and  none 
had  come;  he  would  never  call  again. 

A  lion  shorn  of  his  strength,  an  eagle  robbed 
of  his  freedom,  or  a  dove  bereft  of  his  mate,  all 
die,  it  is  said,  of  a  broken  heart ;  and  who  will 

S3 


Lobo 

aver  that  this  grim  bandit  could  bear  the  three- 
fold brunt,  heart-whole  ?  This  only  I  know, 
that  when  the  morning  dawned,  he  was  lying 
there  still  in  his  position  of  calm  repose,  his 
body  un wounded,  but  his  spirit  was  gone — the 
old  King-wolf  was  dead. 

I  took  the  chain  from  his  neck,  a  cowboy 
helped  me  to  carry  him  to  the  slied  where  lay 
the  remains  of  Blanca,  and  as  we  laid  him  be- 
side her,  the  cattle-man  exclaimed :  "  There, 
you  would  come  to  her,  now  you  are  together 
again." 


54 


Silvcrspot 

The  Story  of  a  Qow 


\ 


\ 


Silverspot 
The  Story  of  a  Crow 


I 


^OW  many  of  us  have  ever  got  to 
know  a  wild  animal?  I  do  not 
mean  merely  to  meet  with  one  once 
or  twice,  or  to  have  one  in  a  cage, 
but  to  really  know  it  for  a  long 
time  while  it  is  wild,  and  to  get  an 
insight  into  its  life  and  history.  The  trouble 
usually  is  to  know  one  creature  from  his  fellow. 
One  fox  or  crow  is  so  much  like  another  that 
we  cannot  be  sure  that  it  really  is  the  same 
next  time  we  meet.  But  once  in  awhile  there 
arises  an  animal  who  is  stronger  or  wiser  than 
his  fellow,  who  becomes  a  great  leader,  who  is, 
as  we  would  say,  a  genius,  and  if  he  is  bigger. 

59 


m 


m 


"i 


Silverspot 

or  has  some  mark  by  which  men  can  know 
him,  he  soon  becomes  famous  in  his  country, 
and  shows  us  that  the  life  of  a  wild  animal  may 
be  far  more  interesting  and  exciting  than  that 
of  many  human  beings. 

Of  this  class  were  Courtant,  the  bob-tailed 
wolf  that  terrorized  the  whole  city  oi*  Paris  for 
about  ten  years  in  the  beginning  of  the  four- 
teenth cetitury  ;  Clubfoot,  the  lame  grizzly  bear 
ttiat  left  such  a  terrific  record  in  the  San  Joaquin 
"Valley  of  California ;  Lobo,  the  king- wolf  of 
New  Mexico,  that  killed  a  cow  every  day  for 
five  years,  and  the  Seonee  panther  that  in  less 
than  two  years  killed  nearly  three  hundred 
human  beings — and  such  also  was  Silverspot, 
whose  history,  so  far  as  I  could  learn  it,  I  shall 
now  briefly  tell. 

Silverspot  was  simply  a  wise  old  crow;  his 
name  wao  given  because  of  the  silvery  white 
spot  that  was  like  a  nickel,  stuck  on  his  right 
side,  between  the  eye  and  the  bill,  and  it  was 
owing  to  this  spot  that  I  was  able  to  know 
him  from  the  other  crows,  and  put  together 
the  parts  of  his  history  that  came  to  my 
knowledge. 

60 


I 


his 


Silverspot. 


to   my 


11 


til 


IT 


1    ijii' 


Silverspot 

Crows  are,  as  you  must  know,  our  most  in> 
telligent  birds — <  Wise  as  an  old  crow '  did 
not  become  a  saying  without  good  reason. 
Crows  know  the  value  of  organization,  and  are 
as  well  drilled  as  soldiers — ^very  much  better 
than  some  soldiers,  in  fact,  for  crows  are  al- 
ways on  duty,  always  at  war,  and  always  de* 
pendent  on  each  other  for  life  and  safety. 
Their  leaders  not  only  are  the  oldest  and  wisest 
of  the  band,  but  also  the  strongest  and  bravest, 
for  they  must  be  ready  at  any  time  with  sheer 
force  to  put  down  an  upstart  or  a  rebel.  The 
tank  and  file  are  the  youngsters  and  the  crows 
without  special  gifts. 

Old  Silverspot  was  the  leader  of  a  large  band 
of  crows  that  made  their  headquarters  near 
Toronto,  Canada,  in  Castle  Frank,  which  is  a 
pine-clad  bill  on  the  northeast  edge  of  the  city. 
This  band  numbered  about  two  hundred,  and 
for  reasons  that  I  never  understood  did  not  in- 
crease.  In  mild  winters  they  stayed  along  the 
Niagara  River ;  in  cold  winters  they  went  much 
farther  south.  But  each  year  in  the  last  week 
of  February  Old  Silverspot  would  muster  his 
followers  and  boldly  cross  the  forty  miles  o( 

63 


:-L..*J 


Silyenpot 

open  water  that  lies  between  Toronto  and  Ni- 
agara ;  not,  however,  in  a  straight  line  woul4 
he  go,  but  always  in  a  curve  to  the  west, 
whereby  he  kept  in  sight  of  the  familiar  land« 
mark  of  Dundas  Mountain,  until  the  pine-clad 
hill  itself  came  in  view.  Each  year  he  came 
with  his  troop,  and  for  about  six  weeks  took  up 
his  abode  on  the  hill.  Each  morning  there* 
after  the  crows  set  out  in  three  bands  to  forage. 
One  band  went  southeast  to  Ashbridge's  Bay. 
One  went  north  up  the  Don,  and  one,  the 
largest,  went  northwestward  up  the  ravine.  The 
last  Silverspot  led  in  person.  Who  led  the 
others  I  never  found  out. 

On  calm  mornings  they  flew  high  and  straight 
away.  But  when  it  was  windy  the  band  flew 
low,  and  followed  the  ravine  for  shelter.  My 
windows  overlooked  the  ravine,  and  it  was  thus 
that  in  1885  I  first  noticed  this  old  crow.  I 
was  a  new-comer  in  the  neighborhood,  but  an 
old  resident  said  to  me  then  "  that  there  old 
crow  has  been  a-flying  up  and  down  this  ravine 
'for  more  than  twenty  years."  My  chances  to 
watch  were  in  the  ravine,  and  Silverspot  dog- 
gedly clinging  to  the  old  route,  though  now  it 

64 


i 


"•* 


' 


Siverspot 

was  edged  with  houses  ai.d  spanned  by  bridges, 
became  a  very  familiar  acquaintance.  Twice 
each  day  in  March  and  part  of  April,  then  agaia 
in  the  late  summer  and  the  fall,  he  passed  and 
repassed,  and  gave  me  chances  to  see  his  move- 
ments, and  hear  his  orders  to  his  bands,  and 
so,  little  by  little,  opened  my  eyes  to  the  fact 
that  the  crows,  though  a  little  people,  are  of 
great  wit,  a  race  of  birds  with  a  language  and 
a  social  system  that  is  wonderfully  human  in 
many  of  its  chief  points,  and  in  some  is  better 
carried  out  than  our  own. 

One  windy  day  I  stood  on  the  high  bridge 
across  the  ravine,  as  the  old  crow,  heading  his 
long,  straggling  troop,  came  flying  down  home- 
ward. Half  a  mile  away  I  could  hear  the  con- 
tented *Airs  well,  come  right  along  T  as  we 

No.  I. 


% 


Caw 


Caw 


should  say,  or  as  he  put  it,  and  as  also  his  lieu- 
tenant echoed  it  at  the  rear  of  the  band.  They 
were  flying  very  low  to  be  out  of  the  wind,  and 

6s 


if 


Silverspot 

would  have  to  rise  a  little  to  clear  the  bridge 
Qti  which  I  was.  Silverspot  saw  me  standing 
there,  and  as  I  was  closely  watching  him  he 
didn't  like  it.  He  checked  his  flight  and  called 
out,  *  Be  on  your  guards*  or 

No.  a. 


^m 


Caw 

and  rose  much  higher  in  the  air.  Then  seeing 
that  I  was  not  armed  he  flew  over  my  head 
about  twenty  feet,  and  his  followers  in  turn  did 
the  same,  dipping  again  to  the  old  level  when 
past  the  bridge. 

Next  day  I  was  at  the  same  place,  and  ai 
the  crows  came  near  I  raised  my  walking  stick 
and  pointed  it  at  them.  The  old  fellow  at  once 
cried  out  *  Danger y   and  rose  fifty  feet  higher 

No.  3. 


i 


^ 


Ca 

than  before.     Seeing  that  it  was  not  a  gun,  he 
ventured  to  fly  over.    But  on  the  third  day  1 

66 


Silverspot 

vook  with  me  a  gtm,  and  at  once  he  cried  out, 
*  Great   danger — a  gun.^     His   lieutenant  re- 
No.  4. 


^ 


■-{lU'l 


cacacaca  Cdvv 

peated  the  cry,  and  every  crow  in  the  troop 
began  to  tower  and  scatter  from  the  rest,  till 
they  were  far  above  gun  shot,  and  so  j)assed 
safely  over,  coming  down  again  to  the  shelter 
of  the  valley  when  well  beyond  reach.  An- 
other time,  as  the  long,  straggling  troop  came 
down  the  valley,  a  red-tailed  hawk  alighted  on 
a  tree  close  by  their  intended  route.  The 
leader  cried  out,  '  Hawk,  hawk,^   and  stayed 

No.  5. 


^ 


^3S^ 


Caw       Caw 

his  flight,  as  did  each  crow  on  nearing  him, 
until  all  were  massed  in  a  solid  body.  Then, 
no  longer  fearing  the  hawk,  ihey  passed  on. 
But  a  quarter  of  a  mile  farther  on  a  man  with 
a  gun  appeared  below,  and  the  cry,  *  Great 

67 


'  1'' 


Silvcfspot 


I 


danger — a  gun,  a  gun  ;  scatter  for  your  lives,* 
at  once  caused  them  to  scatter  widely  and  tower 

No.  6. 


r,  rrrr^ 


5 


cacacaca  Caw 

till  far  beyond  range.  Many  others  of  his 
words  of  command  I  learned  in  the  course  of 
my  long  acquaintance,  and  found  that  sometimes 
a  very  little  difference  in  the  sound  makes  a 
very  great  difference  in  meaning.  Thus  while 
No.  5  means  hawk,  or  any  large,  dangerous 
bird,  this  means  '  wheel  around,'  evidently  a 

No.  7. 


m 


^^ 


^ 


Caw       Caw     cacacaca 

combination  of  No.  5,  whose  root  idea  is  dan- 
ger, and  of  No.  4,  whose  root  idea  is  retreat,  and 
this  again  is  a  mere  *  good  day,'  to  a  far  away 

No.  8. 


^^ 


Caw 


Caw 

66 


Silverspot 


comrade.     Th!s  is  usually  addressed    to  the 
ranks  and  means  *  attention.* 

No.  9. 


^)i:  J^f-lj^fc.^^ 


Early  in  April  there  began  to  be  great 
doings  among  the  crows.  Some  new  cause  of 
excitement  seemed  to  have  come  on  them. 
They  spent  half  the  day  among  the  pines,  in- 
stead of  foraging  from  dawn  till  dark.  Pairs 
and  trios  might  be  seen  chasing  each  other,  and 
from  time  to  time  they  showed  off  in  various 
feats  of  flight.  A  favorite  sport  was  to  dart 
down  suddenly  from  a  great  height  toward 
lome  perching  crow,  and  just  before  touching 
it  to  turn  at  a  hairbreadth  and  rebound  in  the  air 
so  fast  that  the  v/ings  of  the  swooper  whirred 
with  a  sound  like  distant  thunder.  Sometimes 
one  crow  would  lower  his  head,  raise  every 
feather,  and  coming  close  to  another  would  gur- 
gle out  a  long  note  like 

No.  10. 

-ti: 


^ 


*==^=^ 


I 


r 


4 


M 


Stlverspot 


What  did  it  all  mean  ?  I  soon  learned.  They 
were  making  love  and  pairing  off.  The  males 
were  showing  off  their  wing  powers  and  their 
voices  to  the  lady  crows.  And  they  must  have 
been  highly  appreciated,  for  by  the  middle  of 
April  all  had  mated  and  had  scattered  over  the 
country  for  their  honeymoon,  leaving  the  som- 
bre old  pines  of  Castle  Frank  deserted  and 
silenc. 

The  Sugar  Loaf  hill  stands  alone  in  the  Don 
Valley.  It  is  still  covered  with  woods  that  join 
with  those  of  Castle  Frank,  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
ofi.  In  the  woods,  between  the  two  hills,  is  a 
pine-tree  in  whose  top  is  a  deserted  hawk's  nest. 
Every  Toronto  school-boy  knows  the  nest,  and, 
excepting  that  I  had  once  shot  a  black  squirrel 
on  its  edge,  no  one  had  ever  seen  a  sign  of  life 
about  it.  There  it  was  year  after  year,  ragged 
and  old,  and  falling  to  pieces.  Yet,  strange  to 
tell,  in  all  that  time  it  never  did  drop  to  pieces, 
like  other  old  nests. 

One  morning  in  May  I  was  out  at  gray  dawn, 
and  stealing  gently  through  the  woods,  whose 

70 


I 


5ilvenpot 

dead  leaves  were  so  wet  that  no  rustle  was  made. 
I  chanced  to  pass  under  the  old  nest,  and  was 
surprised  to  see  a  black  tail  sticking  over  the 
edge.  I  struck  the  tree  a  smart  blow,  off  flew 
a  crow,  and  the  secret  was  out.  I  had  long 
suspected  that  a  pair  of  crows  nested  each  year 
about  the  pines,  but  now  I  realized  that  it  was 
Silverspot  and  his  wife.  The  old  nest  was 
theirs,  and  they  were  too  wise  to  give  it  an  air 
of  spring-cleaning  and  housekeeping  each  year. 
Here  they  had  nested  for  long,  though  guns  in 
the  hands  of  men  and  boys  hungry  to  shoot 
crows  were  carried  under  their  home  every  day. 
I  never  surprised  the  old  fellow  again,  though  I 
leveral  times  saw  hin   through  my  telescope. 

One  day  while  wat.,iiing  I  saw  a  crow  crossing 
the  Don  Valley  with  something  white  in  his 
beak.  He  flew  to  the  mouth  of  the  Rosedale 
Brook,  then  took  a  short  flight  to  the  Beaver 
Elm.  There  he  dropped  the  white  object,  and 
looking  about  gave  me  a  chance  to  recognize 
my  old  friend  Silverspot.  After  a  minute  he 
picked  up  the  white  thing — a  shell — and  walked 
over  past  the  spriiig,  and  here,  among  the  docks 
and  the  «kunk-cabbages,  he  unearthed  a  pile  of 

7» 


m 


m 


Silverspot 


ihelb  and  other  white,  shiny  things.  He  spread 
them  out  in  the  sun,  turned  them  over,  lifted 
them  one  by  one  in  his  beak,  dropped  them, 
nestled  on  them  as  though  they  were  eggs,  toyed 
with  them  and  gloated  over  them  like  a  miser. 
This  was  his  hobby,  his  weakness.  He  could 
not  have  explained  why  he  enjoyed  them,  any 
more  than  a  boy  can  explain  why  he  collects 
postage-stamps,  or  a  girl  why  she  prefers  pearif 
to  rubies;  but  his  pleasure  in  them  was  very  real, 
and  after  half  an  hour  he  covered  them  all,  in- 
cluding the  new  one,  with  earth  and  leaves,  and 
flew  off.  I  went  at  once  to  the  spot  and  ex« 
amined  the  hoard  ;  there  was  about  a  hatful  is 
all,  chiefly  white  pebbles,  clam-shells,  and  some 
bits  of  tin,  but  there  was  also  the  handle  of 
china  cup,  which  must  have  been  the  gem  oi 
the  collection.  That  was  the  last  time  I  saw 
them.  Silverspot  knew  that  I  had  found  hit 
treasures,  and  he  removed  them  at  once ;  where 
I  never  knew. 

During  the  space  that  I  watched  him  so 
closely  he  had  many  little  adventures  and 
escapes.  He  was  once  severely  handled  by  a 
sparrowhawk,  and  often  he  was  chased  and 


im   so 

and 

by  a 

and 


The  handle  of  a  china-cup.  the  gem  of  the  collection. 


• 

worried 

.' 

much   h 

that  he 

possible 

1 

ivith  a 

had  sor 

f 

of  gc'nj 

'. 

tach  mc 

legularlj 

we  must 

^  ^■■ 

what  we 

.            yard. 

I' 


Sflverspot 


:■  i 


worried  by  kingbirds.  Not  that  these  did  bitb 
much  harm,  but  they  were  such  noisy  pests 
that  he  avoided  their  company  as  quickly  as 
possible,  just  as  a  grown  man  avoids  a  conflict 
with  a  noisy  and  impudent  small  boy.  He 
bad  some  cruel  tricks,  too.  He  had  a  way 
Bf  gc'ng  the  rounci  of  the  small  birds'  nests 
tach  morning  to  eat  the  new  laid  eggs,  as 
jegularly  as  a  doctor  visiting  his  patients.  But 
we  must  not  judge  him  for  that,  as  it  is  just 
what  we  ourselves  do  to  the  hens  in  the  bam 
yard.     , 

His  quickness  of  wit  was  often  shown.  One 
day  I  saw  him  flying  down  the  ravine  with  a 
large  piece  of  bread  in  hit;  bill.  The  stream 
below  him  was  at  this  time  being  bricked  over 
IS  a  sewer.  There  was  one  part  of  two  hundred 
fards  quite  finished,  and,  as  he  flew  over  the 
Dpen  water  just  above  this,  the  bread  fell  from 
his  bill,  and  was  swept  by  the  current  out  of 
light  into  the  tunnel  He  flew  down  and 
peered  vainly  into  the  dark  cavern,  then,  act- 
ing upon  a  happy  thought,  he  flew  to  the  down- 
stream end  of  the  tunnel,  and  awaiting  the  re- 
appearance of  the  floating  bread,  as  it  was  swept 

75 


■',• 


I 


' 


Silverspot 

onward  by  the  current,  he  seized  and  bore  it 
off  in  triumph. 

Silverspot  was  a  crow  of  the  world.  He 
was  truly  a  successful  crow.  He  lived  in  a 
region  that,  though  full  of  dangers,  abounded 
with  food.  In  the  old,  unrepaired  nest  he 
raised  a  brood  each  year  with  his  wife,  whom, 
by  the  way,  I  never  could  distinguish,  and 
when  the  crows  again  gathered  together  he  was 
their  acknowledged  chief. 

The  reassembling  takes  place  about  the  ena 
of  June — the  young  crows  with  their  bob-tails, 
soft  wings,  and  falsetto  voices  are  brought  by 
their  parents,  whom  they  nearly  equal  in  size, 
and  introduced  to  society  at  the  old  pine  woods, 
a  woods  that  is  at  once  their  fortress  and  col- 
lege. Here  they  find  security  in  numbers  and 
in  lofty  yet  sheltered  perches,  and  here  they 
begin  their  schooling  and  are  taught  all  the 
secrets  of  success  in  crow  Ufe,  and  in  crow  life 
the  least  failure  does  not  simply  mean  begin 
again.     It  means  </ea//i. 

The  first  week  or  two  after  their  arrival  is 
spent  by  the  young  ones  in  getting  acquainted, 
for  each  crow  must  know  personally  all  the 

76 


I' 


bore  it 

d.      He 

ed  in  a 

jounded 

nest  he 

,  whom, 

sh,  and 

r  he  was 

the  ena 

ob-tails, 

ught  by 

in  size, 

i  woods. 

and  col- 

)ers  and 

;re  they 
all  the 

;row  life 

n  begin 

rrival  is 

uainted, 

all  the 

^    ■      i 

V 

(   I 


15 

<u 

2 

•E 

8 


Sflvetspot 


others  in  the  band.  Their  parents  meanwhile 
have  time  to  rest  a  little  after  the  work  of  raiA« 
ing  them,  for  now  the  youngsters  are  able  to 
feed  themselves  and  roost  on  a  branch  in  a  row, 
just  like  big  folks. 

In  a  week  or  two  the  moultifig  season  comes. 
At  this  time  the  old  crows  are  usually  irritable 
and  nervous,  but  it  does  not  stop  them  from  be- 
ginning to  drill  the  youngsters,  who,  of  course, 
do  not  much  enjoy  the  punishment  and  nagging 
they  get  so  soon  after  they  have  been  mamma's 
own  darlings.  But  it  is  all  for  their  good,  as 
the  old  lady  said  when  she  skinned  the  eels,  and 
old  Silverspot  is  an  i^cellent  teacher.  Some- 
times he  seems  to  make  a  speech  to  them. 
What  he  says  I  cuiiuot  guess,  but,  judging  by 
the  way  they  receive  it,  it  must  be  extremely 
witty.  Each  morning  there  is  a  company 
drill,  for  the  young  ones  naturally  drop  into 
two  or  three  squads  according  to  their  age  and 
strength.  The  rest  of  the  day  they  forage  with 
their  parents. 

When  at  length  September  comes  we  find  a 
great  change.  The  rabble  of  silly  little  crowi 
have  begun  to  learn  sense.     The  delicate  blue 

70 


SJverspot 


iris  of  their  eyes,  the  sign  of  a  fool-crow,  has 
given  place  to  the  dark  brown  eye  of  the  old 
stager.  They  know  their  drill  now  and  have 
learned  sentry  duty.  They  have  been  taught 
guns  and  traps  and  taken  a  special  course  in 
wire-v/orms  and  greencorn.  They  know  that 
a  fat  old  farruer's  wife  is»much  less  dangerous, 
though  ;io  much  larger,  than  her  fifteen-year-old 
son,  and  they  can  tell  the  boy  from  his  sister. 
They  know  that  an  umbrella  is  not  a  gun,  and 
they  can  count  up  to  six,  which  is  fair  for 
young  crows,  though  Silverspot  can  go  up 
nearly  to  thirty  They  know  the  smell  of  gun- 
powder and  the  south  side  of  a  hemlock-tree, 
and  begin  to  plume  themselves  upon  being 
crows  of  the  world.  They  always  fold  their 
wings  three  times  after  alighting,  to  be  sure 
that  it  is  neatly  done  They  know  how  to 
worry  a  fox  into  giving  up  half  his  dinner,  and 
also  that  when  the  kingbird  or  the  purple  mar- 
tin assails  them  they  must  dash  into  &  bush,  for 
it  is  as  impossible  to  fight  the  little  pests  as  it  is 
for  the  fat  apple-woman  to  catch  the  small  boys 
who  have  raided  her  basket.  All  these  things 
do  the  young  crows  know ;  but  they  have  taken 

80 


f 


Silverspot 

no  lessons  in  egg-hnntinc  yet,  for  it  is  not  the 
season.  Tiiey  are  nnacqiiainrea  with  clams, 
and  have  never  tasted  horses'  eyes,  or  seen 
sprouted  corn,  and  they  don't  know  a  thing 
about  travel,  the  greatest  educator  ot  all.  They 
did  not  think  of  tliat  two  months  ago,  and 
since  then  they  have  thought  of  it,  but  have 
learned  to  wait  till  their  belters  are  ready. 

September  sees  a  great  change  in  the  old 
crows,  too.  Their  moulting  is  over.  They 
are  now  in  full  leather  aga  a  and  proud  of  their 
handsome  coats.  Their  health  is  again  good, 
and  with  it  their  tempers  are  improved.  Even 
old  Silverspot,  the  strict  teacher,  becomes  quite 
jolly,  and  the  youngsters,  who  have  long  ago 
learned  to  respect  him,  begin  really  to  love  him. 

He  has  hammered  away  at  drill,  teaching 
them  all  the  signals  and  words  of  command  in 
use,  and  now  it  is  a  pleasure  to  see  them  in  the 
early  morning. 

*  Company  I  !*  the  old  chieftain  wwdd  cry 
in  crow,  and  Company  x  would  answer  with  a 
great  clamor. 

*Ffyf*  and  himself  leading  them,  they  woulld 
vJl  fly  straight  forward. 


I' 


Silverspot 

*  Mount  t*  and  straight  upward  they  turned 
in  a  moment. 

'  Bunch  / '  and  they  all  massed  into  a  dense 
black  flock. 

*  Scatter  I "  and  they  spread  out  like  leaves 
before  the  wind. 

'  Form  line  1 '  and  they  strung  out  into  the 
long  line  of  ordinary  flight. 

*  Descend  I*  and  they  all  dropped  nearly  to 
the  ground. 

*  Forage  /  *  and  they  alighted  and  scattered 
about  to  feed,  while  two  of  the  permanent  sen. 
tries  mounted  duty — one  on  a  tree  to  the  right, 
the  other  on  a  mound  to  the  far  left.  A  minute 
or  two  later  Silverspot  would  cry  out,  '  A  man 
with  a  gun  /  *  The  sentries  repeated  the  cry 
and  the  company  flew  at  once  in  open  order  as 
quickly  as  possible  toward  the  trees.  Once  be> 
hind  these,  they  formed  line  again  in  safety  and 
returned  to  the  home  pines. 

Sentry  duty  is  not  taken  in  turn  by  all  the 
crows,  but  a  certain  number  whose  watchfulness 
has  been  often  proved  are  the  perpetual  sentries, 
and  are  expected  to  watch  and  forage  at  the 
same  time.     Rather  hard  on  them  it  seems  to 

82 


Sflverspot 


irned 
dense 

leaves 
:o  the 


us,  but  it  works  well  and  the  crow  organization 

is  admitted  by  all  birds  to  be  the  very  best  in 

existence. 

^-  Finally,  each  November  sees  the  troop  sail 

away  southward  to  learn  new  modes  of  life,  new 

landmarks  and  new  kinds  of  food,  under  the 

guidance  of  the  ever-wise  Silverspot. 


rly  to 

ittered 
It  sen- 

right, 
ninute 
A  man 
he  cry 
rder  as 
icebe- 

tyand 

all  the 
fulness 
ntries, 
at  the 
lems  to 


There  is  only  one  time  when-  a  crow  is  a  fool, 
ar-^  that  is  at  night.  There  is  only  one  bird 
t'    t  terrifies  the  crow,  and  that  is  the   owl. 

hen,  therefore,  these  come  together  it  is  a 
woful  thing  for  the  sable  birds.  The  distant 
hoot  of  an  owl  after  dark  is  enough  to  make 
them  withdraw  their  heads  from  under  their 
wings,  and  sit  trembling  and  miserable  till 
morning.  In  very  cold  weather  the  exposure 
of  their  faces  thus  has  often  resulted  in  a  crow 
having  one  or  both  of  his  eyes  frozen,  so  that 
blindness  followed  and  therefore  death.  There 
are  no  hospitals  for  sick  crows. 

83 


Silvefspot 

But  with  the  morning  their  courage  comes 
again,  and  arousing  themselves  they  ransack 
the  woods  for  a  mile  around  till  they  find  that 
owl,  and  if  they  do  ^  <;  kill  him  they  at  least 
worry  him  half  to  death  and  drive  him  twenty 
miles  away. 

In  1893  the  crows  had  come  as  usual  to  Cas- 
tle Frank.  I  was  walking  in  these  woods  a  few 
days  afterward  when  I  chanced  upon  the  track 
of  a  rabbit  that  had  been  running  at  full  speed 
over  the  snow  and  dodging  about  among  the 
trees  as  though  pursued.  Strange  to  tell,  I 
could  see  no  track  of  the  pur'-uer.  I  followed 
the  trail  and  presently  saw  a  ci  jp  of  blood  on 
the  snow,  and  a  little  farther  on  found  the  part- 
ly devoured  remains  of  a  little  brown  bunny. 
What  had  killed  him  was  a  mystery  until  a  care- 
ful search  showed  -n  the  snow  r  t  double- 
toed  track  and  a  beautifully  p  ed  brown 
feather.  Then  all  was  clear — a  horned  owl. 
Half  an  hour  later,  in  passing  again  by  the  place, 
there,  in  a  tree,  within  ten  feet  of  the  bones  of 
his  victim,  was  the  fierce-eyed  owl  himself.  The 
murderer  still  hung  about  the  scene  of  his  crime. 
For  once  circumstantial  evidence  had  not  lied 

a4 


I 


t 


■>■  ^espp^' 


»^-,?- 


I 


)rown 

owl. 

ace, 
nes  of 

The 
rmie. 

lied 


■ 


E 


o 


a* 


i 


Sflverspot 

At  my  approach  he  gave  a  guttural  * grrr-oo* 
and  flew  off  with  low  flagging  flight  to  haunt 
the  distant  sombre  woods. 

Two  days  afterward,  at  dawn,  there  was  a  great 
uproar  among  the  crows.  I  went  out  early  to 
see,  and  found  some  black  feathers  drifting  over 
the  snow.  I  followed  up  the  wind  in  the  direc- 
tion from  which  they  came  and  soon  saw  the 
bloody  remains  of  a  crow  and  the  great  double- 
toed  track  which  again  told  me  that  the  mur- 
derer was  the  owl.  All  around  were  signs  of  the 
struggle,  but  the  fell  destroyer  was  too  strong. 
The  poor  crow  had  been  dragged  from  his  perch 
at  night,  when  the  darkness  had  put  him  at  a 
hopeless  disadvantage. 

T  turned  over  the  remains,  and  by  chance 
unburied  the  head — then  started  with  an  ex- 
clamation of  sorrow.  Alas !  It  was  the  head 
of  old  Silverspot.  His  long  life  of  usefulness 
to  his  tribe  was  over — slain  at  last  by  the  owl 
that  he  had  taught  so  many  hundreds  of  young 
crows  to  beware  of. 

The  old  nest  on  the  Sugar  Loaf  is  abandoned 
now.  The  crows  still  come  in  spring-time  to 
Castle  Frank,  but  without  their  famous  leader 

17 


iii;l 


Stlvcrspot 

their  numbers  are  dwindling,  and  soon  they  vi\\ 
be  seen  no  more  about  the  old  pine-grove  in 
which  they  and  their  forefathers  had  lived  and 
learned  for  ages. 


f\\\\ 


, 


,„Kir///iiim\     -.^?^^.^^ 


I 

> 

o 
n 

TJ 


^^iA 


Ik 


\m 


RaggyW 

The  Story  of  a 
Cottontail  Rabbit 


m 


l;j  -l| 


IN..  6E  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1^121    125 

m  ^^     WKM 

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1-25  III  1.4   III  1.6 

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6"    

► 

HiotDgraphic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


33  WIST  MAIN  STMIT 

WnSTIR.N.Y.  14SI0 

(716)l7a-4S03 


The  Story  of  a  Cottontail  Rabbit 

Raggylug,  or  Rag,  was  the  name  of  a  young 
cottontail  rabbit.  It  was  given  him  from  his 
torn  and  ragged  ear,  a  life-mark  that  he  got 
in  his  first  adventure.  He  lived  with  his  mother 
in  Olifant's  swamp,  where  I  ujade  their  acquaint- 
ance and  gathered,  in  a  hundred  different  ways, 
rhe  little  bits  of  proof  and  scraps  of  truth  that  at 
length  enabled  me  to  write  this  history. 

Those  who  do  not  know  the  animals  well 
may  think  I  have  humanized  them,  but  those 
who  have  lived  so  near  them  as  to  know  some- 
what of  their  ways  and  their  minds  will  not 
think  so. 

Truly  rabbits  have  no  speech  as  we  under- 
stand it,  but  they  have  a  way  of  conveying  ideas 
by  a  system  of  sounds,  signs,  scents,  whisker 


,     ;li.J 


Raggrylugr 


Hi 


touches,  movements,  and  example  that  answen 
the  purpose  of  speech ;  and  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  though  in  telling  this  story  I  free- 
ly translate  from  rabbit  into  English,  /  repeat 
nothing  that  they  did  not  say. 


The  rank  swamp  grass  bent  over  and  con- 
cealed the  snug  nest  where  Raggylug's  mother 
had  hidden  him.  She  had  partly  covered  him 
with  some  of  the  bedding,  and,  as  always,  her 
last  warning  was  to  '  lay  low  and  say  nothing, 
whatever  happens.'  Though  tucked  in  bed, 
he  was  wide  awake  and  his  bright  eys  were 

94 


IlilllJ 


Raffsrlttfir 


swen 

Item- 

free- 

'epeat 


taking  in  that  part  of  his  little  green  world  that 
was  straight  above.  A  bluejay  and  a  red> 
squirrel,  two  notorious  thieves,  were  loudly  be* 
rating  each  other  for  stealing,  and  at  one  time 
Rag's  home  bush  was  the  centre  of  their  fight ; 
a  yellow  warbler  caught  a  blue  butterfly  but  six 
inches  from  his  nose,  and  a  scarlet  and  black 
ladybug,  serenely  waving  her  knobbed  feelers, 
took  a  long  walk  up  one  grassblade,  down 
another,  and  across  the  nest  and  over  Rag's 
face — and  yet  he  never  moved  nor  even  winked. 

After  a  while  he  heard  a  strange  rustling  of 
the  leaves  in  the  near  thicket.  It  was  an  odd 
continuous  sound,  and  though  it  went  this  way 
and  that  way  and  came  ever  nearer,  there  was 
no  patter  of  feet  with  it.  Rag  had  lived  his 
whole  life  in  the  Swamp  (he  was  three  weeks 
old)  and  yet  had  never  heard  anything  like 
this.  Of  course  his  curiosity  was  greatly 
aroused.  His  mother  had  cautioned  him  to 
lay  low,  but  that  was  understood  to  be  in  case 
of  danger,  and  this  strange  sound  without  foot* 
falls  could  not  be  anything  to  fear. 

The  low   rasping   went  past  close  at  hand, 
then  to  the  right,  th<»n  back,  and  seemed  going 

95 


lii:.J 


mix 

m 


Raggylug 


away.  Rag  felt  he  knew  what  he  was  about; 
he  wasn't  a  baby;  it  was  his  duty  to  learn 
what  it  was.  He  slowly  raised  his  roly-poly 
body  on  his  short  fluffy  legs,  lifted  his  little 
round  head  above  tlie  covering  of  his  nest  and 
peeped  out  into  the  woods.  The  sound  had 
ceased  as  soon  as  he  moved.  He  saw  nothing, 
so  took  one  step  forward  to  a  clear  view,  and 
instantly  found  himself  face  to  face  with  an 
enormous  Black  Serpent. 

"  Mammy,"  he  screamed  in  mortal  terror  as 
the  monster  darted  at  him.  With  all  the  strength 
of  hi=?  tiny  liml)s  he  tried  to  run.  But  in  a 
Hash  the  Snake  had  him  by  one  ear  and  whipped 
around  him  with  his  coils  to  gloat  over  the 
helpless  little  baby  bunny  he  had  secured  for 
dinner. 

*'  Mam-my — Mam-my,"  gasped  poor  little 
Raggylug  as  the  cruel  monster  l)egan  slowly 
choking  him  to  death.  Very  soon  the  little 
one's  cry  would  have  ceased,  but  bounding 
through  the  -^vaods  straight  as  an  arrow  came 
Mammy.  No  longer  a  shy,  helpless  little  Molly 
Cottontail,  ready  to  fly  from  a  shadow:  the 
mother's  love  was  strong  in  her.    The  cry  of 

96 


J  Ji 


i!:;! 


k 


'•••  ''I 


'■i.'-fi 


'Mammy,  Mammy  I'  he  screamed,  In  mortal  terror. 


RAggr^li'S 


her  baby  had  filled  her  with  the  courage  of  a 
hero,  and — hop,  she  went  over  that  horrible 
reptile.  Whack,  she  struck  down  at  him  with 
her  sharp  hind  claws  as  she  passed,  giving  him 
such  a  stinging  blow  that  he  squirmed  with 
pain  and  hissed  with  anger. 

«*  M-a-m-m-y,"  came  feebly  from  the  little 
one.  And  Mammy  came  leaping  again  and 
again  and  struck  harder  and  fiercer  until  the 
loathsome  reptile  let  go  the  little  one's  ear 
and  tried  to  bite  the  old  one  oj  she  leaped  over. 
But  all  he  got  was  a  mouthful  of  wool  each 
time,  and  Molly's  fierce  blows  began  to  tell, 
as  long  bloody  rips  were  torn  in  the  Black 
Snake's  scaly  armor. 

Things  were  now  looking  bad  for  the  Snake ; 
and  bracing  himself  for  the  next  charge,  he 
los^  his  tight  hold  on  Baby  Bunny,  who  at 
ouce  wriggled  out  of  the  coils  and  away  into 
vhe  underbrush,  breathless  and  terribly  fright* 
ened,  but  unhurt  save  that  his  left  ear  was  much 
torn  by  the  teeth  of  that  dreadful  Serpent. 

Molly  now  had  gained  ,ill  she  wanted.  She 
had  no  notion  of  fighting  for  glory  or  revenge. 
Away  she  went  into  the  woods  and  the  little 

99 


m 


(5| 


one  followed  the  shining  beacon  of  her  snow- 
white  tail  until  she  led  him  to  a  safe  corner  oi 
the  Swamp. 


n 

Old  Olifant's  Swamp  was  a  rough,  brambly 
tract  of  second-growth  woods,  with  a  marshy 
pond  and  a  stream  through  the  middle.  A  few 
ragged  remnants  of  the  old  forest  still  stood 
in  it  and  a  few  of  the  still  older  trunks  were 
lying  about  as  dead  logs  in  the  brushwood. 
The  land  about  the  pond  was  of  that  willow- 
grown  sedgy  kind  that  cats  and  horses  avoid, 
but  that  cattle  do  not  fear.  The  drier  zones 
were  overgrown  with  briars  and  young  trees. 
The  outermost  belt  of  all,  that  next  the  fields, 
was  of  thrifty,  gummy  -  trunked  young  pines 
whose  living  needles  in  air  and  dead  ones  on 
earth  offer  so  delicious  an  odor  to  the  nostrils 
of  the  passer-by,  and  so  deadly  a  breath  to 
those  seedlings  that  would  compete  with  them 
for  the  v/orthless  waste  they  grow  on. 

All  around  for  a  long  way  were  smooth 
fields,  and  the  only  wild  tracks  that  ever  crossed 


these  fields  were  those  of  a  thoroughly  bad  and 
unscrupulous  fox  that  lived  only  too  near. 

The  chief  indwellers  of  the  swamp  were 
Molly  and  Rag.  Their  nearest  neighbors  were 
far  away,  and  their  nearest  kin  were  dead. 
This  was  their  home,  and  here  they  lived  to- 
gether, and  here  Rag  received  the  training  that 
made  his  success  in  life. 

Molly  was  a  good  little  mother  and  gave  him 
a  careful  bringing  up.  The  first  thing  he 
learned  was  '  to  lay  low  and  say  nothing.'  His 
adventure  with  the  snake  taught  him  the  wis- 
dom of  this.  Rag  never  forgot  that  lesson  ;  af- 
terward he  did  as  he  was  told,  and  it  made  the 
o  ;her  things  come  more  easily. 

The  second  lesson  he  learned  was  '  freeze.' 
It  grows  out  of  the  first,  and  Rag  was  taught  it 
as  soon  as  he  could  run. 

'  Freezing '  is  simply  doing  nothing,  turning 
into  a  statue.  As  soon  as  he  finds  a  foe  near, 
no  matter  what  he  is  doing,  a  well-trained  Cot- 
tontail keeps  just  as  he  is  and  stops  all  move- 
ment, for  the  creatures  of  the  woods  are  of  the 
same  color  as  the  things  in  the  woods  and 
catch  the  eye  only  while  moving.     So  when 

tor 


"'f 


RsLggylug 


enemies  chance  together,  the  one  who  first 
the  other  can  keep  himself  unseen  by  <  freez- 
ing '  and  thus  have  all  the  advantage  of  choos« 
ing  the  time  for  attack  or  escape.  Only  those 
who  live  in  the  woods  know  the  importance  of 
this ;  every  wild  creature  and  every  hunter 
must  learn  it ;  all  learn  to  do  it  well,  but  not 
one  of  them  can  beat  Molly  Cottontail  in  the 
doing.  Rag's  mother  taught  him  this  trick 
by  example.  When  the  white  cotton  cushion 
that  she  always  carried  to  sit  on  went  bobbing 
away  through  the  woods,  of  course  Rag  ran  his 
hardest  to  keep  up.  But  when  Molly  stopped 
and  *  froze,'  the  natural  wish  to  copy  made 
him  do  the  same. 


But  the  best  lesson  of  all  that  Rag  learned 
from  his  mother  was  the  secret  of  the  Brierbrush. 
It  is  a  very  old  secret  now,  and  to  make  it 
plain  you  must  first  hear  why  the  Brierbrush 
q,uarre.led  with  the  beasts. 


103 


Kaifgylu|f 


St  sees 

'frecr- 
choos< 
r  those 
ince  of 
hunter 
ut  not 
in  the 
I  trick 
ushion 
)bbing 
an  his 
topped 
made 


earned 
brush, 
ake  it 
rbrush 


l-^f'g'  "go  the  Roses  used 
to  grow  on  bushes  that  had  no  thorns. 
But  the  Squirrels  and  Miee  used  ta 
eiimb  after  them,  the  Cattle  used  to  hnoci 
them  off  with  their  horns,  the  Possum 
would  twitch  them  off  with  his  long  tail^ 
and  the  Deer,  with  his  sharp  hoofs,  would 
\^  breah  them  down.  So  the  Brierbrush 
armed  itself  with  spikes  to  protect  its  roses 
and  declared  eternal  war  on  all  creatures  that 
climbed  trees,  or  had  horns,  or  hoofs,  or  long 
tails.  This  left  the  Brierbrush  at  peace  with 
none  but  Molly  Cottontail,  who  could  not  climbs 
was  hornless,  hoofless,  and  had  scarcely  any 
tail  at  all. 

In  truth  the  Cottontail  had  never  harmed  a 
Brierrose,  and  having  now  so  many  enemies 
the  Rose  took  the  Rabbit  into  especial  friend- 
ship, and  when  dangers  are  threatening  poor 
Bunny  he  flies  to  the  nearest  Brierbrush,  eer^ 
tain  that  it  is  ready  with  a  million  keen  ami 
foitoned  daggers  to  defend  him. 


ill 


« 


C^2S> 


Raggylug 

So  the  secret  that  Rag  learned  from  his  mothei 
was,  *  The  Brierbush  is  your  best  friend/ 

Much  of  the  time  that  seaso.:  was  spent  in 
learning  the  lay  of  the  land,  and  the  bramble 
and  brier  mazes.  And  Rag  learned  them  so 
well  that  he  could  go  all  around  the  swamp  by 
two  different  ways  and  never  leave  the  friendly 
briers  at  any  place  for  more  than  five  hops. 

It  IS  not  long  since  the  foes  of  the  Cotton, 
tails  were  disg?isted  to  find  that  man  had 
brought  a  new  kind  of  bramble  and  planted  it 
in  long  lines  throughout  the  country.  It  was 
SO  strong  that  no  creatures  could  break  it  down, 
and  so  sharp  that  the  toughest  skin  was  torn  by 
it.  Each  year  there  was  more  of  it  and  each 
year  it  became  a  more  serious  matter  to  the 
wild  creatures.  But  Molly  Cottontail  had  no 
fear  of  it.  She  was  not  brought  up  in  the  briers 
for  nothing.  Dogs  and  foxes,  cattle  and  sheep, 
and  even  man  himself  might  be  torn  by  those 
fearful  spikes:  but  Molly  understands  it  and 
lives  and  thrives  under  it.  And  the  further  it 
spreads  the  more  safe  country  there  is  for  the 
Cottontail.  And  the  name  of  this  new  and 
dreaded  bramble  is — the  barbed-wire  fence. 

104 


I  \ 


'I 
i 


Raggrlw? 


Ill 


Molly  had  no  other  childien  to  look  after 
now,  so  Rag  had  all  her  care.  He  was  unusu- 
ally quick  and  bright  as  well  as  strong,  and  he 
had  uncommonly  good  chances ;  so  he  got  on 
remarkably  well. 

All  the  season  she  kept  him  busy  learning  the 
tricks  of  the  trail,  and  what  to  eat  and  drink 
and  what  not  io  touch.  Day  by  day  she  worked 
to  train  him;  little  by  little  she  taught  him, 
putting  into  his  mind  hundreds  of  ideas  that  her 
own  life  or  early  training  had  stored  in  hers, 
and  so  equipped  him  with  the  knowledge  that 
makes  life  possible  to  their  kind. 

Close  by  her  side  in  the  clover-field  or  the 
thicket  he  would  sit  and  copy  her  when  she 
wobbled  her  nose  *  to  keep  her  smeller  clear,' 
and  pull  the  bite  from  her  mouth  or  taste  her 
lips  to  make  sure  he  was  getting  the  same  kind 
of  fodder.  Still  copying  her,  he  learned  to 
comb  his  ears  with  his  claws  and  to  dress  his 
coat  and  to  bite  the  burrs  out  of  his  vest  and 
socks.    He  learned,  too,  that  nothing  but  clear 


%f 


fi 


i  j;1 


•  i-i 


i 


jl 


<}ewdrops  from  the  briers  were  fit  for  a  rabbit 
to  drink,  as  water  which  has  once  touched  the 
earth  must  surely  bear  some  taint.  Thus  he 
began  the  study  of  woodcraft,  the  oldest  of  all 
sciences. 

As  soon  as  Rag  was  big  enough  to  go  out 
alone,  his  mother  taught  him  the  signal  code. 
Rabbits  telegraph  each  other  by  thumping  on 
the  ground  with  their  hind  feet.  Along  the 
ground  sound  carries  far ;  a  thump  that  at  six 
feet  from  the  earth  is  noi  heard  at  twenty  yards 
will,  near  the  ground,  be  heard  at  least  one 
hundred  yards.  Rabbits  have  very  keen  hear- 
ing, and  so  might  hear  this  same  thump  at  two 
hundred  yards,  and  that  would  reach  from  end  to 
end  of  OH fant's  Swamp.  A  single  thump  means 
*look  out'  or  '  freeze.'  A  slow  thump  thump 
means  *  come.'  A  fast  thump  thump  means 
*  danger  ; '  and  a  very  fast  thump  thump  thump 
means  '  run  for  dear  life. ' 

At  another  time,  when  the  weather  was  fine 
and  the  bluejays  were  quarrelling  among  them- 
selves, a  sure  sign  that  no  dangerous  foe  was 
about.  Rag  began  a  new  study.  Molly,  by 
flattening  her  ears,  gave  the  sign  to  squat.    Then 

io6 


Raggfylug 

«he  ran  far  away  in  the  thicket  and  gave  the 
thumping  signal  for  '  come.'  Rag  set  out  at  a 
run  to  the  place  but  could  not  find  Molly.  He 
thumped,  but  got  no  reply.  Setting  carefully 
about  his  search  he  found  her  foot-scent  and 
following  this  strange  guide,  that  the  beasts  all 
know  so  well  and  man  does  not  know  at  all,  he 
worked  out  the  trail  and  found  her  where  she 
was  hidden.  Thus  he  got  his  first  lesson  in 
trailing,  and  thus  it  was  that  the  games  of  hide 
and  seek  they  played  became  the  p^hooling  for 
the  serious  chase  of  which  there  wi^  so  much  in 
his  after  life. 

"  Before  that  first  season  of  schooling  was  over 
he  had  learnt  all  the  principal  tricks  by  which 
a  rabbit  lives  and  in  not  a  few  problems  showed 
himself  a  veritable  genius. 

He  was  an  adept  at  'tree,'  'dodge/  and 
'squat,'  he  could  play  'log-lump,'  with  'wind* 
and  *  baulk '  with  '  back-track  '  so  well  that  he 
scarcely  needed  any  other  tricks.  He  had  not 
yet  tried  it,  but  he  knew  just  how  to  play 
» barb- wire,'  which  is  a  new  trick  of  the  brill- 
iant order ;  he  had  made  a  special  study  of 
*8and/  which  bums  up  all  scent,  and  he  wai 

107 


m 


111 


i\n 


R'i 


Raggylug 


itepiy  versed  in  •  change-off/  *  fence/  aiid 
*  double '  as  well  as  <  hole-up,'  which  is  a  trick 
requiring  longer  notice,  and  yet  he  never  forgot 
that  *  lay-low  *  is  the  beginning  of  all  wisdom 
and  '  brierbush '  the  only  trick  that  is  always 
safe. 

He  was  taught  the  signs  by  which  to  know 
all  his  foes  and  then  the  way  to  baffle  them. 
For  hawks,  owls,  foxes,  hounds,  curs,  minks, 
weasels,  cats,  skunks,  coons,  and  men,  each 
have  a  different  plaji  of  pursuit,  and  for  each 
and  all  of  these  evils  he  was  taught  a  remedy. 

And  for  knowledge  of  the  enemy's  approach 
he  learnt  to  depend  first  on  himself  and  his 
mother,  and  then  on  the  bluejay.  "  Never 
neglect  the  bluejay's  warning,"  said  Molly;  "he 
is  a  mischief-maker,  a  marplot,  and  a  thief  all  the 
time,  but  nothing  escapes  him.  He  wouldn't 
mind  harming  us,  but  he  cannot,  thanks  to  the 
briers,  and  his  enemies  are  ours,  so  it  is  well  to 
heed  him.  If  the  woodpecker  cries  a  warning 
you  can  trust  him,  he  is  honest ;  but  he  is  a  fool 
beside  the  bluejay,  and  though  the  bluejay  of- 
ten tells  lies  for  mischief  you  are  safe  to  believe 
him  when  he  brings  ill  news." 

io8 


Ra?8Tl«8r 


The  barb-wire  trick  takes  a  deal  of  nerve  and 
the  best  of  legs.  It  was  long  before  Rag  vent* 
ured  to  play  it,  but  as  he  came  to  his  full  pow- 
ers it  became  one  of  his  favorites. 

"  It's  fine  play  for  those  who  can  do  it,'* 
said  Molly.  "  First  you  lead  off  your  dog  on  a 
straightaway  and  warm  him  up  a  bit  by  nearly 
letting  him  catch  you.  Then  keeping  just  one 
hop  ahead,  you  lead  him  at  a  long  slant  full  tilt 
into  a  breast-high  barb-wire.  I've  seen  many  a 
dog  and  fox  crippled,  and  one  big  hound  killed 
outright  this  way.  But  I've  also  seen  more  than 
one  rabbit  lose  his  life  in  trying  it." 

Rag  early  learnt  what  some  rabbits  never 
learn  at  all,  that  '  hole-up '  is  not  such  a  fine 
ruse  as  it  seems ;  it  may  be  the  certain  safety  of 
a  wise  rabbit,  but  soon  or  late  is  a  sure  death- 
trap to  a  fool.  A  young  rabbit  always  thinks 
of  it  first,  an  old  rabbit  never  tries  it  till  all 
others  fail.  It  means  escape  from  a  man  or 
dog,  a  fox  or  a  bird  of  prey,  but  it  means  sud- 
den death  if  the  foe  is  a  ferret,  mink,  skunk,  or 
weasel. 

There  were  but  two  ground-holes  in  the 
Swamp.    One  on  the  Sunning  Bank,  which  was 

ICQ 


^vts 


m 


i  'i 


m 


im 

m 

•h  -  4  *  1 


I   1 


iM  ODD  CATtitr    Poinion.% 


ft  dry  sheltered  knoll  in  the  South-end.  Tt  was 
open  and  sloping  to  the  sun,  and  here  on  fine 
days  the  Cottontails  took  their  sunbaths.  They 
stretched  out  among  the  fragrant  pine  needles 
and  winter-green  in  odd  cat-like  positions,  and 
turned  slowly  over  as  though  roasting  and  wish- 
ing all  sides  well  done.  And  they  blinked  and 
panted,  and  squirmed  as  if  in  dreadful  pain ; 
yet  this  was  one  of  the  keenest  enjoyments  they 
knew. 

Just  over  the  brow  of  the  knoll  was  a  large 
pine  stump.  Its  grotesque  roots  wriggled  out 
above  the  yellow  sand-bank  like  dragons,  and 
under  their  protecting  claws  a  sulky  old  wood- 
chuck  had  digged  a  den  long  ago.  He  bv'came 
more  sour  and  ill-tempered  as  weeks  wei.t  by, 
and  one  day  waited  to  quarrel  with  Olifant's 
dog  instead  of  going  in  so  that  Molly  Cotton- 
tail was  able  to  take  possession  of  the  den  an 
hour  later. 

This,  the  pine-root  hole,  was  afterward  very 
coolly  taken  by  a  self-sufiicient  young  skunk  who 
with  less  valor  might  have  enjoyed  greater  lon- 
gevity, for  he  imagined  that  even  man  with  a 
gun  would  fly  from  him.     Instead  of  keeping 

no 


MoUy 


xj 


Molly  from  the  den  for  good,  therefore,  nis 
reign,  like  that  of  a  certain  Hebrew  king,  was 
over  in  seven  days. 

The  other,  the  fern-hole,  was  in  a  fern  thicket 
next  the  clover  field.  It  was  small  and  damp, 
and  useless  except  as  a  last  retreat.  It  also  was 
the  work  of  a  woodchuck,  a  well-meaning 
friendly  neighbor,  but  a  hare-brained  youngster 
whose  skin  in  the  form  of  a  whip-lash  was  now 
developing  higher  horse-power  in  the  Olifant 
working  team. 

••Simple  justice,'*  said  the  old  man,  *«for 
that  hide  was  raised  on  stolen  feed  that  the  team 
would  a'  turned  into  horse-power  anyway." 

The  Cottontails  were  now  sole  owners  of  the 
holes,  and  did  not  go  near  them  when  they 
could  help  it,  lest  anything  like  a  path  should  be 
made  that  might  betray  these  last  retreuts  to  an 
enemy.  ^^ 

There  was  also  the  hollow  hickory,  which, 
though  nearly  fallen,  was  still  green,  and  had 
the  great  advantage  of  being  open  at  both  ends. 
This  had  long  been  the  residence  of  one  Lotor, 
a  solitary  old  coon  whose  ostensible  calling  was 
frog-hunting,  and  who,  like  the  monks  of  old,    ^J^  * 

III 


k 


^u 


was  supposed  to  abstain  from  all  flesh  food.  Bui 
it  was  shrewdly  suspected  that  he  needed  but 
a  chance  to  indulge  in  a  diet  of  rabbit.  When 
at  last  one  dark  night  he  was  killed  while  raid- 
ing Olifant's  hen-house,  Molly,  so  far  from  feel- 
ing a  pang  of  regret,  took  possession  of  his  cosy 
nest  with  a  sense  of  unbounded  relief. 


I  i 


IV 

Bright  August  sunlight  was  flooding  the 
Swamp  in  the  morning.  Everything  seemed 
soaking  in  the  warm  radiance.  A  little  brown 
swamp-sparrow  was  teetering  on  a  long  rush  in 
the  pond.  Beneath  him  there  were  open  spaces 
of  dirty  water  that  brought  down  a  few  scraps 
of  the  blue  sky,  and  worked  it  and  the  yellow 
duckw'  ed  into  an  exquisite  mosaic,  with  a  little 
wrong-side  picture  of  the  bird  in  the  middle. 
On  the  bank  behind  was  a  great  vigorous  growth 
of  golden  green  skunk-cabbage,  that  cast  dense 
shadow  over  the  brown  swamp  tussocks. 

The  eyes  of  the  swamp-sparrow  were  not 
trained  to  take  in  the  color  glories,  but  he  saw 
what  we  might  have  missed ;  that  two  of  the 

iia 


Jf 


Raggrylugf 


jd.  Bui 
ded  but 
When 
ile  raid- 
om  feel- 
hiscosy 


iing  the 
»  seemed 
le  brown 
g  rush  in 
en  spaces 
;w  scraps 
^e  yellow 
;h  a  little 
middle, 
is  growth 
tast  dense 
s. 

were  not 
It  he  saw 
ro  of  the 


numberless  leafy  brown  bumps  under  the  broad 
cabbage-leaves  were  furry  living  things,  with 
vi(y<:s  ihat  never  ceased  to  move  up  a^J  down 
whatever  else  was  still. 

It  was  Molly  and  Rag.  They  were  stre*:^hed 
under  the  skunk -cabbage,  not  because  they  iiked 
its  rank  smell,  but  because  the  winged  ticks 
could  not  stand  it  at  all  and  so  left  them  in 
peace. 

Rabbits  have  no  set  time  for  lessons,  they 
are  always  learning ;  but  what  the  lesson  is  de- 
pends on  the  present  stress,  and  that  must 
arrive  before  it  is  known.  They  went  to  this 
place  for  a  quiet  rest,  but  had  not  been  long 
there  when  suddenly  a  warning  note  from  the 
ever-watchful  bluejay  caused  Molly's  nose  and 
ears  to  go  up  and  her  tail  to  tighten  to  her 
back.  Away  across  the  Swamp  was  Olifant's 
big  black  and  white  dog,  coming  straight 
toward  them. 

"  Now,"  said  Molly,  "squat  while  I  go  and 
keep  that  fool  out  of  mischief."  Away  she 
went  to  meet  him  and  she  fearlessly  dashed 
across  the  dog's  path. 

"  Bow-ow-ow,"  he  fairly  yelled  as  he  bound. 
113 


n 


Hi 


li 


PI: 


ed  afler  Molly,  but  she  kept  just  beyond  Im 
reach  and  led  him  where  the  million  daggers 
struck  fast  and  deep,  till  his  tender  ears  were 
scratched  raw,  and  guided  him  at  last  plump  into 
a  hidden  barbed-wire  fence,  where  he  got  such  a 
gashing  that  he  went  homeward  howling  with 
pain.  After  making  a  short  double,  a  loop  and  a 
baulk  in  case  the  dog  should  come  back,  Molly 
returned  to  find  that  Rag  in  his  eagerness  was 
standing  bolt  upright  and  craning  his  neck  to 
see  the  sport. 

This  disobedience  made  her  so  angry  that  she 
struck  him  with  her  hind  foot  and  knocked  him 
over  in  the  mud.  > 

One  day  as  they  fed  on  the  near  clov:;r  field 
a  red-tailed  hawk  came  swooping  after  them. 
Molly  kicked  up  her  hind  legs  to  make  fun  of 
him  and  skipped  into  the  briers  along  one  of 
their  old  pathways,  where  of  course  the  hawk 
could  not  follow.  It  was  the  main  path  from 
the  Creekside  Thicket  to  the  Stove-pipe  brush- 
pile.  Several  creepers  had  grown  across  it,  and 
Molly,  keeping  one  eye  on  the  hawk,  set  to  work 
and  cut  the  creepers  off.  Rag  watched  her, 
then  ran  on  ahead,  and  cut  some  more  that 

114 


I 


Ragfsrylug: 


were  across  the  path.  "That's  right,"  said 
Molly,  "always  keep  the  runways  clear,  you 
will  need  them  often  enough.  Not  wide,  but 
clear.  Cut  everything  like  a  creeper  across 
them  and  some  day  you  will  find  you  have 
cut  a  snare.  "A  what?"  asked  Rag,  as  he 
scratched  his  right  ear  with  his  left  hind  foot. 
>  "  A  'jnare  is  something  that  looks  like  a 
creeper,  but  it  doesn't  grow  and  it's  worse  than 
all  the  hawks  in  the  world,"  said  Molly,  glanc* 
ing  at  the  now  far-away  red-tail,  **  for  there  it 
hides  night  and  day  in  the  runway  till  the 
chance  to  catch  you  comes." 

**I  don't  believe  it  could  catch  me."  said 
Rag,  with  the  pride  of  youth  as  he  rose  on  his 
heels  to  rub  his  chin  and  whiskers  high  up  on  a 
smooth  sapling.  Rag  did  not  know  he  was  doing 
this,  but  his  mother  saw  and  knew  it  was  a  sign, 
like  the  changing  of  a  boy's  voice,  that  her  little 
one  was  no  longer  a  baby  but  would  soon  be  a 
grown-up  Cottontail. 


m 


Kaggylug 


TImr  is  magic  in  running  water.  Who  does 
noi  know  it  and  feel  it?  The  railroad  builder 
fearlessly  throws  his  bank  across  the  wide  bog  or 
lake,  or  the  sea  itself,  but  the  tiniest  rill  of  run- 
ning water  he  treats  with  great  respect,  studies 
its  wish  and  its  way  and  gives  it  all  it  seems  to 
ask.  The  thirst-parched  traveller  :n  the  poi- 
sonous alkali  deserts  holds  back  in  deadly  fear 
from  the  sedgy  ponds  till  he  finds  one  down 
whose  centre  is  a  thin,  clear  line,  and  a  faint 
flow,  the  sign  of  running,  living  water,  and  joy- 
fully  he  drinks. 

There  is  magic  in  running  water,  no  evil 
spell  can  cross  it.  Tarn  O'Shanter  proved  its 
potency  in  time  of  sorest  need.  The  wild-wood 
creature  with  its  deadly  foe  following  tireless  on 
the  trail  scent,  realizes  its  nearing  doom  and 
feels  an  awful  spell.  Its  strength  is  spent,  its 
every  trick  is  tried  in  vain  till  the  good  Angel 
leads  it  to  the  water,  the  running,  living  water, 
and  dashing  in  it  follows  the  cooling  stream, 
and  then  with  force  renewed  takes  to  the  woods 
again. 

m6 


I 


Rag  followed  the  snow-white  beacon. 


RaoyIuz 

There  is  magic  in  running  water.  The 
hounds  come  to  the  very  spot  and  halt  and  cast 
about ;  and  halt  and  cast  in  vain.  Their  spell 
is  broken  by  the  merry  stream,  and  the  wild 
thing  lives  its  life. 

And  this  was  one  of  the  great  secrets  that 
Raggylug  learned  from  his  mother — "  after  the 
Brierrose,  the  Water  is  your  friend." 

One  hot,  muggy  night  in  August,  Molly  led 
Rag  through  the  woods.  The  cotton-white 
cushion  she  wore  under  her  tail  twinkled  ahead 
and  was  his  guiding  lantern,  though  it  went  out 
as  soon  as  she  stopped  and  sat  on  it.  After  a 
few  runs  and  stops  to  listen,  they  came  to  the 
edge  of  the  pond.  The  hylas  in  the  trees  above 
them  were  singing  <  s/eep,  sUep,^  and  away  out 
on  a  sunken  log  in  the  deep  water,  up  to  his 
chin  in  the  cooling  bath,  a  bloated  bullfrog  was 
linging  the  praises  of  a  *jug  o'  rum. ' 

"Follow  me  still,"  said  Molly,  in  rabbit, 
and  *  flop  '  she  went  into  the  pond  and  struck 
out  for  the  sunken  log  in  the  middle.  Rag 
flinched  but  plunged  with  a  little  'ouch,' 
gasping  and  wobbling  his  nose  very  fast  but 
still  copying  his   mother.     The  same  move- 

•19 


•«2=?d 


Ra?8T*«8: 


ments  as  on  land  sent  him  through  the  water, 
and  thus  he  found  he  could  swim.  On  he  went 
till  he  reached  the  sunken  log  and  scrambled  up 
by  his  dripping  mother  on  the  high  dry  end, 
with  a  nishy  screen  around  them  and  the  Water 
that  tells  no  tales.  After  this  in  warm  black 
nights  when  that  old  fox  from  Springfield  came 
prowling  through  the  Swamp,  Rag  would  note 
the  place  of  the  bullfrog's  voice,  for  in  case  of 
direst  need  it  might  be  a  guide  to  safety. 
And  thenceforth  the  words  of  the  song  that 
the  bullfrog  sang  were,  '  Come,  come,  in  danger 
come. ' 

This  was  the  latest  study  that  Rag  took  up 
with  his  mother — it  was  really  a  post-graduate 
course,  for  many  little  rabbits  never  learn  it  at 
all. 


VI 

No  wild  animal  dies  of  old  age.  Its  life  has 
soon  or  late  a  tragic  end.  It  is  only  a  question 
of  how  long  it  can  hold  out  against  its  foes. 
But  Rag's  life  was  proof  that  once  a  rabbit  passes 
out  of  his  youth  he  is  likely  to  outlive  his  prime 

Tap 


Ragr^yittg 


I 


and  be  killed  only  in  the  last  third  of  life,  ine 
downhill  third  we  call  old  age. 

The  Cottontails  had  enemies  on  every  side. 
Their  daily  life  was  a  series  of  escapes.  For 
dogs,  C'fts,  cats,  skunks,  coons,  weasels,  minks, 
snakes,  nawks,  owls,  and  men,  and  even  insects 
were  all  plot'lag  to  kill  them.  They  had  hun- 
dreds of  adventures,  and  at  least  once  a  day  they 
had  to  fly  for  their  lives  and  save  themselves  by 
their  legs  and  wits. 

More  than  once  that  hateful  fox  from  Spring- 
field  drove  them  to  taking  refuge  under  the 
wreck  of  a  barbed- wire  hog-pen  by  the  spring. 
But  once  there  they  could  look  calmly  at  him 
while  he  spiked  his  legs  in  vain  attempts  to 
reach  them. 

Once  or  twice  Rag  when  hunted  had  played 
off  the  hound  aguinst  a  skunk  that  had  seemed 
likely  to  be  quite  as  dangerous  as  the  dog. 

Once  he  was  caught  alive  by  a  hunter  who 
had  a  hound  and  a  ferret  to  help  him.  But 
Rag  had  the  luck  to  escape  next  day,  with  a 
yet  deeper  distrust  of  ground  holes.  He  was 
several  times  run  into  the  water  by  the  cat,  and 
many  times  was  chased  by  hawks  and  owls,  bu'; 

121 


m 


^' 


i'.,  •!■] 


n  |iii 


Rag:gTlag: 

for  each  kind  of  danger  there  was  a  safeguard 
His  mother  taught  him  the  principal  dodges, 
ai.d  he  improved  on  them  and  made  many  new 
ones  as  he  grew  older.  And  the  older  and  wisei 
he  grew  the  less  he  trusted  to  his  legs,  and  thr 
more  to  his  wits  for  safety. 

Ranger  was  the  name  of  a  young  hound  in 
the  neighborhood.  To  train  him  his  master 
used  to  put  him  on  the  trail  of  one  of  the  Cot- 
tontails. It  was  nearly  always  Rag  that  they 
ran,  for  the  young  buck  enjoyed  the  runs  ar 
much  as  they  did,  the  spice  of  danger  in  then 
being  just  enough  for  zest.     He  would  say : 

"  Oh,  mother  I  here  comes  the  dog  agaiq 
must  have  a  run  to-day." 

**  You  are  too  bold,  Raggy,  my  son  I  *'  she 
might  reply.  "  I  fear  you  will  run  once  too 
often." 

*'  But,  mother,  it  is  such  glorious  fun  to  tease 
that  fool  dog,  and  it's  all  good  training.  I'll 
thump  if  I  am  too  hard  pressed,  then  you  can 
come  and  change  off  while  I  get  my  second 
wind." 

On  he  would  come,  and  Ranger  would  take  the 
trail  3ud  follow  till  Rag  got  tired  of  it.    Then 

IS2 


he 

whi 
or! 
Ad 
Rag 
I 
groi 


7' 

S  C"«^ 


•..Thit 


So 

peai 

trai 

thei 

the 

that 

that 

wor 


li 


Ra8:?yIog: 


he  either  sent  a  thumping  telegram  for  help, 
which  brought  Molly  to  take  charge  of  the  dog, 
or  he  got  rid  of  the  dog  by  some  clever  trick, 
A  description  of  one  of  these  shows  how  well 
Rag  had  learned  the  arts  of  the  woods. 

He  knew  that  his  scent  lay  best  near  the 
ground,  and  was  strongest  when  he  was  warm. 


s 


Ct(( 


V  jidt 


/ 


''^'\ 


■^y/ 


So  if  he  could  get  off  the  ground,  and  be  left  in 
peace  for  half  an  hour  to  cool  off,  and  for  the 
trail  to  stale,  he  knew  he  would  be  safe.  When, 
therefore,  he  tired  of  the  chase,  he  made  for 
theCreekside  brier-patch,  where  he  'wound' — 
that  is,  zigzagged — till  he  left  a  course  so  crooked 
that  the  dog  was  sure  to  be  greatly  delayed  in 
working  it  out.     He  then  went  straight  to  D 


Raggrylug: 


li! 

;i 


in  the  woods,  passing  one  hop  to  windward  oi 
the  high  log  E.  Stopping  at  D,  he  followed 
kis  back  trail  to  F,  here  he  leaped  aside  and  ran 
toward  G.  Then,  returning  on  his  trail  to  J, 
he  waited  till  the  hound  passed  on  his  trail  at  I. 
Rag  then  got  back  on  his  old  trail  at  H,  and 
followed  it  to  K,  where,  with  a  scent-baulk  or 
great  leap  aside,  he  reached  the  high  log,  and 
running  to  its  higher  end,  he  sat  like  a  bump. 

Ranger  lost  much  time  in  the  bramble  maze, 
und  the  scent  was  very  poor  when  he  got  i* 
straightened  out,  and  came  to  D.  Here  he  be- 
gan to  circle  to  pick  it  up,  and  after  losing 
much  time,  struck  the  trail  which  ended  sud- 
denly at  G.  Again  he  was  at  fault,  and  had  to 
circle  to  find  the  trail.  Wider  and  wider  the 
circles,  until  at  last,  he  passed  right  under  the 
log  R.ag  was  on.  But  a  cold  scent,  on  a  cold 
day,  dor  not  go  downward  much.  Rag  never 
budged  nor  winked,  and  the  hound  passed. 

Again  the  dog  came  round.  This  time  he 
crossed  the  low  part  of  the  log,  and  stopped  to 
smell  it.  'Yes,  clearly  it  was  rabbity,'  but  it 
was  a  stale  scent  now  ;  still  he  mounted  the  leg. 

It  was  a  trying  moment  for  Rag,  as  the  great 


i 


r 


The  hound  came  sniffing  along  the  log. 


i:    i, 


;V 


{■ 


Raggylug 

hound  came  snifT-snifiing  along  the  log.  But  his 
nerve  did  not  forsake  him;  the  wind  was  right ; 
he  had  his  mind  made  up  to  bolt  as  soon  as 
Ranger  came  half  way  up.  But  he  didn'  t  come. 
A  yellow  cur  would  have  seen  the  rabbit  sitting 
there,  but  the  hound  did  not,  and  the  scent 
seemed  stale,  so  he  leaped  off  the  log,  and  Rag 
had  won.  ^ 

VII 

Rag  had  never  seen  any  other  rabbit  than 
his  mother.  Indeed  he  had  scarcely  thought 
about  there  being  any  other.  He  was  more 
and  more  away  from  her  now,  and  yet  he  never 
felt  lonely,  for  rabbits  do  not  hanker  for  com- 
pany. But  one  day  in  December,  while  he  was 
among  the  red  dogwood  brush,  cutting  a  new 
path  to  the  great  Creekside  thicket,  he  saw  all  at 
once  against  the  sky  over  the  Sunning  Dank  the 
head  and  ears  of  a  strange  rabbit.  The  new- 
comer had  the  air  of  i'.  well-pleased  discoverer 
and  soon  came  hopping  Rag's  way  along  one  of 
his  paths  into  his  Swamp.  A  new  feeling  rushed 
over  him,  that  boiling  mixture  of  anger  and 
hatred  called  jealousy. 

W7 


11 


Ragg^ylug 

The  stranger  sto|)|)ecl  at  one  of  Rag's  rubbing' 
trees — that  is,  a  tree  against  which  he  used  to 
stand  on  his  heels  and  rub  his  chin  as  far  up  as 
he  coi'.ld  reach.  He  thought  he  did  this  simply 
because  he  liked  it ;  but  all  buck-rabbits  do  so, 
and  several  ends  are  served.  It  makes  the  tree 
-  rabbity,  so  that  other  rabbits  know  that  this 
'^  swamp  already  belongs  to  a  rabbit  family  and 
is  not  open  for  settlement.  It  also  lets  the 
next  one  know  by  the  scent  if  the  last  caller 
was  an  acquaintance,  and  the  height  from  the 
ground  of  the  rubbing-places  shows  how  tall 
the  rabbit  is. 

Now  to  his  disgust  Rag  noticed  that  the  new- 
comer was  a  head  taller  than  himself,  and  a 
big,  stout  buck  at  that.  This  was  a  wholly  new 
experience  and  filled  Rag  with  a  wholly  new 
feeling.  The  spirit  of  murder  entered  his 
heart ;  he  chewed  very  hard  with  nothing  in 
his  mouth,  and  hopping  forward  onto  a  smooth 
piece  of  hard  ground  he  struck  slowly  : 

'Thump — ihwnp — thump,'  which  is  a  rabbit 
telegram  for,  '  Get  out  of  my  swamp,  or  fight.' 

The  new-comer  made  a  big  V  with  his  ears, 
sat  upright  for  a  few  seconds,  then,  dropping  on 

128 


I 


his 

Rr( 


eac 

anc 

stra 

mui 

on 

was 

D1U( 

batt 
Rag 
tog( 
theij 
vdow 
sirai 
w;is 
he  c 
got 
he  V 
was 
que; 
H 
geri 


: 


W\ 


m 


Raggrylo? 

his  fore-feet,  sent  along  the  ground  a  louder, 
stronger,  '  Thump — thump — thump.* 

And  so  war  was  declared. 

They  came  together  by  short  runs  side-wise, 
each  one  trying  to  get  the  wind  of  the  other 
and  watching  for  a  chance  advantage.  The 
stranger  was  a  big,  heavy  buck  with  plenty  of 
muscle,  but  one  or  two  trifles  such  as  treading 
on  a  turnover  and  failing  to  close  when  Rag 
was  on  low  ground  showed  that  he  had  not 
much  cunning  and  counted  on  winning  his 
battles  by  his  weight.  On  he  came  at  last  and 
Rag  met  him  like  a  little  fury.  As  they  came 
together  they  leaped  up  and  struck  out  with 
their  hind  feet.  Thud,  thud  they  came,  and 
down  went  poor  little  Rag.  In  a  moment  the 
siranger  was  on  him  with  his  teeth  and  Rag 
wi«  bitten,  and  lost  several  tufts  of  hair  before 
he  could  get  up.  But  he  was  swift  of  foot  and 
got  out  of  reach.  Again  he  charged  and  again 
he  was  knocked  down  and  bitten  severely.  He 
was  no  match  for  his  foe,  and  it  soon  became  a 
question  of  saving  his  own  life. 

Hurt  as  he  was  he  sprang  away,  with  the  stran- 
ger in  full  chase,  and  bound  to  kill  him  as  'ivell 

129 


'  1 1  -4 


!,    I 


Ragfgfylug 

m  to  oust  him  from  the  Swamp  where  he  wai 
bom.  Rag's  legs  were  good  and  so  was  his 
wind.  The  stranger  was  big  and  so  heavy  that 
he  soon  gave  up  the  chase,  and  it  was  well  for 
poor  Rag  that  he  did,  for  he  was  getting  stiff 
from  his  wounds  as  well  as  tired.  From  that 
day  began  a  reign  of  terror  for  Rag.  His 
training  had  been  against  owk,  dogs,  weasels, 
men,  and  so  on,  but  what  to  do  when  chased 
by  another  rabbit,  he  did  not  know.  All  he 
knew  was  to  lay  low  till  he  was  found,  then 
run. 

Poor  little  Molly  was  completely  terrorized ; 
she  could  not  help  Rag  and  sought  only  to 
hide.  But  the  big  buck  soon  found  her 
out.  She  tried  to  run  from  him,  but  she  was 
not  now  so  swift  as  Rag.  The  stranger  made 
no  attempt  to  kill  her,  but  he  made  love  to  her, 
and  because  she  hated  him  and  ^^ied  to  get 
away,  he  treated  her  shamefully.  Day  after 
day  he  worried  her  by  following  her  about,  and 
often,  furk)us  at  her  lasting  hatred,  he  would 
knock  her  down  and  tear  out  mouthfuls  of  her 
soft  fur  till  his  rage  cooled  somewhat,  when  he 
would  let  her  go  for  a  while.      But  his  fixed 

Ho 


Ragg  viug 

purpose  was  to  kill  Rag,  whose  escape  seemed 
hopeless.  There  was  no  other  swamp  he  could 
go  to,  and  whenever  he  took  a  nap  now  he 
had  to  be  ready  at  any  moment  to  dash  for  his 
life.  A  dozen  times  a  day  the  big  stranger  came 
creeping  up  to  where  he  slept,  but  each  time 
the  watchful  Rag  awoke  in  time  to  escape.  To 
escape  yet  not  to  escape.  He  saved  his  life  in- 
deed, but  oh  1  what  a  miserable  life  it  had  be- 
come. ^How  maddening  to  be  thus  helpless, 
to  see  his  little  mother  daily  beaten  and  torn, 
as  well  as  to  see  all  his  favorite  feeding-grounds, 
the  cosy  nooks,  and  the  pathways  he  had  made 
with  so  much  labor,  forced  from  him  by  this 
hateful  brute.  Unhappy  Rag  realized  that  to 
the  victor  belong  the  spoils,  and  he  hated  him 
more  than  ever  he  did  fox  or  ferret. 

How  was  it  to  end  ?  He  was  wearing  out 
with  running  and  watching  ^.nd  bad  food,  and 
little  Molly's  strength  and  spirit  were  breaking 
down  under  the  long  persecution.  The  stranger 
was  ready  to  go  to  all  lengths  to  destroy  poor 
Rag,  and  at  last  stooped  to  the  worst  crime 
known  among  rabbits.  However  much  they 
may  hate  each  other,  all  good  rabbits  forget 

131 


9% 


>r; 


^"" 


1 1* 


their  feuds  when  their  common  enemy  appears. 
Yet  one  day  when  a  great  goshawk  came  swoop- 
ing over  the  Swamp,  the  stianger,  keeping  well 
under  cover  himself,  tried  again  and  again  to 
drive  Rag  into  the  open. 

Once  or  twice  the  hawk  nearly  had  him,  but 
still  the  briers  saved  him,  and  it  was  only  when 
the  big  buck  nimself  came  near  being  caught 
that  he  gave  it  up.  And  ^ain  Rag  escaped, 
but  was  no  better  off.  He  made  up  his 
mind  to  leave,  with  his  mother,  if  possible,  next 
night  and  go  into  the  world  in  quest  of  some 
new  home  when  he  heard  old  Thunder,  the 
hound,  sniffing  and  searching  about  the  out- 
skirts of  the  swamp,  and  he  resolved  on  playing 
a  desperate  game.  He  deliberately  crossed  the 
hound's  view,  and  the  chase  that  then  began  was 
fast  and  furious.  Thrice  around  the  Swamp 
they  went  till  Rag  had  made  sure  that  his 
mother  was  hidden  safely  and  that  his  hated 
foe  was  in  his  usual  nest.  Then  right  into  that 
nest  and  plump  over  him  he  jumped,  giving  him 
a  rap  with  one  hind  foot  as  he  passed  over  his 
head. 

**  You  miserable  fool,  I  kill  you  yet,"  cried 
132 


't 


RaggT^w? 


the  stranger,  and  up  he  jumped  only  to  find  him- 
self between  Rag  and  the  dog  and  heir  to  all 
the  peril  of  the  chase. 

On  came  the  hound  baying  hotly  on  the 
straight-away  scent.  The  buck's  weight  and 
size  were  great  advantages  in  a  rabbit  fight,  but 
now  they  were  fatal.  He  lUd  not  know  many 
tricks.  Just  the  simple  ones  like  *  double,' 
*  wind,'  and  *  hole-up,'  that  every  baby  Bunny 
knows.  But  the  chase  was  too  close  for  doub- 
ling and  winding,  and  he  didn't  know  where 
the  holes  were. 

It  was  a  straight  race.  The  brier-rose,  kind 
to  all  rabbits  alike,  did  its  best,  but  it  was  no 
use.  The  baying  of  the  hound  was  fast  and 
steady.  The  crashing  of  the  brush  and  the 
yelping  of  the  hound  each  time  the  briers  tore 
his  tender  ears  were  borne  to  the  two  rabbits 
where  they  crouched  in  hiding.  But  suddenly 
these  sounds  stopped,  there  was  a  scuftle,  then 
loud  and  terrible  screaming. 

Rag  knew  what  it  meant  and  it  sent  a  shiver 
throtigh  him,  but  he  soon  forgot  that  when  all 
was  over  and  rejoiced  to  be  once  more  the 
master  of  the  dear  old  Swamp. 

133 


is!.' 


f    i  I 

I 


Rajfgylog 


VIII 


8'!         I' 
I'!        ! 


Old  Olifant  had  doubtLss  a  right  to  burn  all 
those  brush-piles  in  the  east  and  south  of  the 
Swamp  and  to  clear  up  t  he  wreck  of  the  old 
barbed-wire  hog-pen  just  below  the  spring.  But 
it  was  none  the  less  hard  on  Rag  and  his  mother. 
The  first  were  their  various  residences  and  out- 
posts, and  the  second  their  grand  fastness  and 
safe  retreat. 

They  had  so  long  held  the  Swamp  and  felt  it 
to  be  their  very  own  in  every  part  and  suburb, 
-including  Olifant's  grounds  and  buildings— 
that  they  would  have  resented  the  appearanc( 
of  another  rabbit  even  about  the  adjoining 
barnyard. 

Their  claim,  that  of  long,  successful  occu. 
pancy,  was  exactly  the  same  as  that  by  which 
most  nations  hold  their  land,  and  it  would  be 
hard  to  find  a  better  right 

During  the  time  of  the  January  thaw  the 
Olifants  had  cut  the  rest  of  the  large  wood 
•bout  the  pond  and  curtailed  the  Cottontails' 
domain  on  all  sides.  But  they  still  clung  to  the 
«lwindling  Swamp,  for  it  was  their  home  and 

»34 


RaggfyluSf 


rn  all 

jf  the 
e  old 
But 
other, 
d  out- 
ss  and 

feltil 
aburb, 
ings— 
aranoe 
oining 

occu* 
which 
uld  be 

w  the 
wood 

ntails' 
to  the 

le  and 


they  were  loath   to  move  to  foreign    parts. 

Their  life  of  daily  perils  went  on,  but  they  were 

still  fleet  of  foot,  long  of  wind,  and  bright  of 

wit.    Of  late  they  had  been  somewhat  troubled 

by  a  mink  that  had  wandered  up-stream  to  their  <^vs^»|. 

quiet  nook.     A  little  judicious  guidance  had      ^^  I 

transferred  the  uncomfortable   visitor  to  Oli-  1^*^ 


But  they  were  not  yet  quite  "^-^7 


fant's  hen-house, 
sure  that  he  had  been  properly  looked  after.  So 
for  the  present  they  gave  up  using  the  ground- 
holes,  which  were,  of  course,  dangerous  blind* 
alleys,  and  stuck  closer  than  ever  to  the  briers 
and  the  brush-piles  that  were  left. 

That  first  snow  had  quite  gone  and  the 
weather  was  bright  and  warm  until  now.  Molly, 
feeling  a  touch  of  rheumatism,  was  somewhere 
in  the  lower  thicket  seeking  a  teaberry  tonic 
Rag  was  sitting  in  the  weak  sunlight  on  a  bank 
in  the  east  side.  The  ~oke  from  the  fa- 
miliar gable  chimney  oi  Olifant's  house  came 
fitfully  drifting  a  pale  blue  haze  through  the 
underwoods  and  showing  as  a  dull  brown 
against  the  brightness  of  the  sky.  The  sun-gilt 
gable  was  cut  off  midway  by  the  banks  of  brier- 
brush,  that  purple  in  shadow  shone  like  rods  of 

135 


V**' 

">{-,/-^^ 


ir- 


i^;:| 


'M 


Ragfgylugf 

blazing  criiiison  and  gold  in  the  light.  Beyond 
the  house  the  barn  with  its  gable  and  roof,  new 
gilt  as  the  house,  stood  up  like  a  Noah's  ark. 

The  sounds  that  came  from  it,  and  yet  more 
the  delicious  smell  that  mingled  with  the  smoke, 
told  Rag  that  the  animals  were  being  fed  cab- 
bage in  the  yard.  Rag's  mouth  watered  at  the 
idea  of  the  feast.  He  blinked  and  blinked  as 
he  snuffed  its  odorous  promises,  for  he  loved 
cabbage  dearly.  But  then  he  had  been  to  the 
barnyard  the  night  before  after  a  few  paltry 
clover-tops,  and  no  wise  rabbit  would  go  two 
nights  running  to  the  same  place. 

Therefore  he  did  the  wise  thing.  He  moved 
across  where  he  could  not  smell  the  cabbage  and 
made  his  supper  of  a  bundle  of  hay  that  had 
been  blown  from  the  stack.  Later,  when  about 
to  settle  for  the  night,  he  was  joined  by  Molly, 
who  had  taken  Y  .  eaberry  and  then  eaten  her 
frugal  meal  of  sweet  birch  near  the  Sunning 
Bank. 

Meanwhile  the  sun  had  gone  about  his  busi- 
ness elsewhere,  taking  all  his  gold  and  glory 
with  him.  Off  in  the  east  a  big  black  shutter 
came  pushing  up  and  rising  higher  and  higher; 

136 


it  spread  over  the  whole  sky,  shut  out  all  light 
and  left  the  world  a  very  gloomy  place  indeed. 
Then  another  mischief-maker,  the  wind,  taking 
advantiige  of  the  sun's  absence,  came  on  the  scene 
and  set  about  brewing  trouble.  The  weather 
turned  colder  and  colder ;  it  seemed  worse  than 
when  the  ground  had  been  covered  with  snow. 

"  Isn't  this  terribly  cold  ?  How  I  wish  we 
had  our  stove-pipe  brush-pile,"  said  Rag. 

"  A  good  night  for  the  pine-root  hole,"  re- 
plied Molly,  **  but  we  have  not  yet  seen  the 
pelt  of  that  mink  on  the  end  of  the  barn,  and 
it  is  not  safe  tJU  we  do." 

The  hoiiow  hickory  was  gone — in  fact  at  this 
very  moment  its  trunk,  lying  in  the  wood-yard, 
was  harboring  the  mink  they  feared.  So  the 
Cottontails  hopped  to  the  south  side  of  the  pond 
and,  choosing  a  brush-pile,  they  crept  under  and 
snuggled  down  for  the  night,  facing  the  wind 
but  with  their  noses  in  different  directions  so  as 
to  go  out  different  ways  in  case  of  alarm.  The 
wind  blew  harder  and  colder  as  the  hours  went 
by,  and  about  midnight  a  fine  icy  snow  cams 
ticking  down  on  the  dead  leaves  and  hissing 
through  the  brush  heap.     It  might  seem  a  poor 

i|7 


J  if 

m 


WJ 


Ragfgylugf 

night  for  hunting,  but  that  old  fox  from  Spring- 
field  was  out.  He  came  pointing  up  the  wind 
in  the  shelter  of  the  Swamp  and  chanced  in  the 
lee  of  the  brush-pile,  where  he  scented  the 
sleeping  Cottontails.  He  halted  for  a  moment, 
then  came  stealthily  sneaking  up  toward  the 
brush  under  which  his  nose  told  him  the  rabbits 
were  crouching.  The  noise  of  the  wind  and 
the  sleet  enabled  him  to  come  quite  close  be- 
fore Molly  heard  the  aint  crunch  of  a  dry 
leaf  under  his  paw.  She  touched  Rag's  whis- 
kers, and  both  were  fully  awake  just  as  the  fox 
sprang  on  them;  but  they  always  slept  with  their 
legs  ready  for  a  jump.  M  )lly  darted  out  into 
the  blinding  storm.  The  fox  missed  his  spring 
but  followed  like  a  racer,  while  Rag  dashed  off 
to  one  side. 

There  was  only  one  road  for  Molly ;  that  was 
straight  up  the  wind,  and  bounding  for  hir 
life  she  gained  a  little  over  the  unfrozen  mud 
that  would  not  carry  the  fox,  till  she  reached 
the  margin  of  the  pond.  No  chance  to  turn 
nov/,  on  she  must  go. 

Splash !  splash  I  through  the  weeds  she  went 
then  plunge  into  the  deep  water. 

138 


*•=. 


went, 


1^ 


No  chance  to  turn  now. 


I  i 


:l.| 


And  plunge  went  the  fox  close  behind.  But 
■t  was  too  much  for  Reynard  on  such  a  night. 
He  turned  back,  and  Molly,  seeing  only  one 
course,  struggled  through  the  reeds  into  the  deep 
water  and  struck  out  for  the  other  shore.  But 
rhere  was  a  strong  headwind.  The  little  waves, 
icy  cold,  broke  over  her  head  as  she  swam,  and 
the  water  was  full  of  snow  that  blocked  her 
way  like  soft  ice,  or  floating  mud.  The  dark 
line  of  the  other  shore  seemed  far,  far  away, 
with  perhaps  the  fox  waiting  for  her  there. 

But  she  laid  her  ears  flat  to  be  out  of  the  gale, 
and  bravely  put  fr  th  all  her  strength  with  wind 
and  tide  against  her.  After  a  long,  weary 
swim  in  the  cold  water,  she  had  nearly  reached 
the  farther  reeds  when  a  great  mass  of  floating 
snow  barred  her  road ;  then  the  wind  on  the 
bank  made  strange,  fox-like  sounds  that  robbed 
her  of  all  force,  aad  she  was  drifted  far  back- 
ward before  she  could  get  free  from  the  floating 
bar. 

Again  she  struck  out,  but  slowly — oh  so 
slowly  now.  And  when  at  last  she  reached  the 
lee  of  the  tall  reeds,  her  limbs  were  numbed, 
her  strength  spent,  her  brave  little  heart  WM 

141 


ill 


i-}  '■ 


\    \3 


s 


^"1 


I 


Jinking,  and  she  cared  no  more  whether  the  fox 
were  there  or  not.  Through  the  reeds  she  did 
indeed  pass,  but  once  in  the  weeds  her  course 
wavered  and  slowed,  her  feeble  strokes  no  longer 
sent  her  landward,  the  ice  forming  around  her, 
stopped  her  altogether.  In  a  little  while  the 
cold,  weak  limbs  ceased  to  move,  the  furry  nose- 
tip  of  the  little  mother  Cottontail  wobbled  no 
more,  and  the  soft  brown  eyes  were  closed  in 
death. 

But  there  was  no  fox  waiting  to  tear  her  with 
ravenous  jaws.  Rag  had  es«.  "^ped  the  first  onset 
of  the  foe,  and  as  soon  as  he  regained  his  wits 
he  came  running  back  to  change-off  and  so  help 
his  mother.  He  met  the  old  fox  going  round 
the  pond  to  meet  Molly  and  led  him  far  and 
away,  then  dismissed  him  with  a  barbed-wire 
gash  on  his  head,  and  came  to  the  bank  and 
sought  about  and  trailed  and  thumped,  but  all 
ills  searching  was  in  vain ;  he  could  not  find  his 
little  mother.  He  never  saw  her  again,  and  he 
never  knew  whither  she  went,  for  she  slept  her 
never-waking  sleep  in  the  ice-arms  of  her  friend 
the  Water  that  tells  no  tales. 


14a 


KAgfyUif[ 


Poor  little  Molly  CottonUil !  She  was  a  trut 
heroine,  yet  only  one  of  unnumbered  milliont 
that  without  a  thought  of  heroisn;  have  livei 
and  done  their  best  in  their  little  world,  and 
died.  She  fought  a  good  fight  in  the  ba!i!e  of 
!ife.  She  was  good  stuff  j  the  stuff  that  never 
dies.  For  flesh  of  her  flesh  and  brain  of  her 
brain  was  Rag.  She  lives  in  him,  and  through 
him  transmits  a  finer  fibre  to  her  race. 

And  Rag  still  lives  in  the  Swamp.  Old  Olifant 
died  that  winter,  and  the  unthrifty  sons  ceased 
%)  clear  the  Swamp  or  mend  the  wire  fences. 
Within  a  single  year  it  was  a  wilder  place  than 
*ver ;  fresh  trees  and  brambles  grew,  and  falling 
wires  made  many  Cottontail  castles  and  last  re- 
keats  that  dogs  and  foxes  dared  not  storm. 
And  there  to  this  day  lives  Rag.  He  is  a  big 
strong  buck  now  and  fears  no  rivals.  He  has 
a  large  family  of  his  own,  and  a  pretty  brown 
wife  that  he  got  I  know  not  where.  TherCt  do 
doubt,  he  and  his  children's  children  will  flour* 
ish  for  many  years  to  come,  and  there  you  may 
see  them  any  sunny  evening  if  you  have  learnt 
their  signal  code,  and  choosing  a  good  spot  on 
the  ground,  know  just  how  and  when  to  thump  it. 

H3 


,1! 

•If 


Bingo 
^   The  Story 
My  Dog 


'I  ill 


Bin^o 


*Be  'JttmcUVtn't  (omc  leaped  ovet  ■  etflc, 
Snft  vciK  tclcpt  bim  l«tte(  Sinflc, 

Bn^  «ev  ccUpt  bim  Ifttel  Sit.t|0. 

1^  franckcltn'f  wffe  brewed  nutte«btown 
Bnd  be  ccUpt  vtte  rate  tfoodc  Stinflo, 

Bnft  be  vclept  ctte  rare  flcobe  Stiimio. 

«ow  v«  not  tbie  a  prettvc  rb^me, 
•  tbvnhe  vtte  vs  bve  ^tn^o, 

K  ttsnke  vtte  v(  bsc  Statfi." 


0ttto, 


btown 


Bingo 
The  Story  of  My  Dog 


I 


T  was  early  in  November,  1882,  and 
the  Manitoba  winter  had  juj-t  set  in. 
I  was  tilting  back  in  my  chair  for  a 
few  lazy  moments  after  breakfast 
idly  aiternating  my  gaze  from  the 
one  window-pane  of  our  shanty, 
through  which  was  framed  a  bit  of 
the  prairie  and  the  end  of  our  cowshed,  to  the 
old  rhyme  of  the  '  Franckelyn's  dogge'  pinned 
on  the  logs  near  by.  But  the  dreamy  mixture 
of  rhyme  and  view  was  quickly  dispelled  by 
the  sight  of  a  large  gray  animal  dashing  across 
the  prairie  into  the  cowshed,  with  a  smaller 
black  and  white  animal  in  hot  pursuit 

H7 


1  - 


I, 


1 

11, 


ijh    ;  i;| 


Bingfo 


)il 


"  A  wolf,"  I  exclaimed,  and  seizing  a  nfie 
dashed  out  cO  help  the  dog.  But  before  I 
could  get  there  they  had  left  the  stable,  and 
after  a  short  lun  over  the  snow  the  wolf  again 
turned  at  bay,  and  the  dog,  our  neighbor  s 
collie,  circled  about  watching  his  chance  to 
snap. 

I  fired  a  couple  of  long  shots,  which  had 
the  effect  only  of  setting  them  off  again  over 
the  prairie.  After  another  run  this  matchless 
dog  closed  and  seized  the  wolf  by  the  haunch, 
but  again  retreated  to  avoid  the  fierce  return 
chop.  Then  there  was  another  stand  at  bay, 
and  again  a  race  over  the  snow.  Every  few 
hundred  yards  this  scene  was  repeated.  The 
dog  managing  so  that  each  fresh  rush  should  be 
toward  the  settlement,  while  the  wolf  vainly 
tried  to  break  back  toward  the  dark  belt  of 
trees  in  the  east.  At  last  after  a  mile  of  this 
fighting  and  running  I  overtook  them,  and  the 
dog,  seeing  that  he  now  had  good  backing, 
closed  in  for  the  finish. 

After  a  few  seconds  the  whirl  of  struggling 
animals  resolved  itself  into  a  wolf,  on  his  back, 
with  a  bleeding  collie  gripping  his  «:hroat,  and 

148 


.=SJl^ 


p-f  I  — 


^v 


J 


■  Ml 


Frank  retreated  each  time  the  wolf  turned. 


-'ii 


»  • 


fiingtt 


\ 


it  was  now  easy  for  me  to  step  up  and  end  tk* 

fight  by  putting  a  ball  through  the  wolfs  head. 

Then,  when  this  dog  of  marvellous  wind 
saw  that  his  foe  was  dead,  he  gave  him  no  seC" 
ond  glance,  but  set  out  at  a  lope  for  a  farm 
four  miles  across  the  snow  where  he  had  left  his 
master  when  first  the  wolf  was  started.  He 
was  a  wonderful  dog,  and  even  if  I  had  not 
come  he  undoubtedly  would  have  killed  the 
wolf  alone,  as  I  learned  he  had  already  done 
with  others  of  the  kind,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that 
the  wolf,  though  of  the  snutUer  or  prairie  race, 
was  much  larger  than  himself. 

I  was  filled  with  admiration  for  the  dog's 
prowess  and  at  once  sought  to  buy  him  at  any 
price.  The  scornful  reply  of  his  owner  was, 
*'  Why  don't  you  try  to  buy  one  of  the  chil- 
dren?" 

Since  Frank  was  not  in  the  market  I  was 
obliged  to  content  myself  with  the  next  best 
thing,  one  of  his  alleged  progeny.  That  is,  a  son 
of  his  wife.  This  probable  offspring  of  an  illus- 
trious sire  was  a  roly-poly  ball  of  black  fur  that 
looked  more  like  a  long-tailed  bear-cub  than  a 
puppy.    But  he  had  some  tan  markings  like 

151 


I  "? 


Bingfo 

those  on  Frank's  coat,  that  were,  I  hoped,  guar- 
antees of  future  greatness,  and  also  a  very  char- 
acterist'c  ring  of  white  that  he  always  wore  on 
his  muz::le. 

Having  got  possession  of  his  person,  the  next 
thing  was  to  find  him  a  name.  Surely  this 
puzzle  was  already  solved.  The  rhyme  of  the 
'  Franckelyn's  dogge  *  was  inbuilt  with  the  foun* 
dation  of  our  acquaintance,  so  with  adequate 
pomp  we  *  yclept  him  little  Bingo.' 


n 


The  rest  of  that  winter  Bingo  spent  in  our 
shanty,  living  the  life  of  a  lubberly,  fat,  welU 
meaning,  ill*doing  puppv;  gorging  himself  with 
food  and  growing  bigger  i^nd  clumsier  each  day. 
Even  sad  experience  faij'^d  to  teach  him  that  he 
must  keep  his  nose  out  of  the  rat-trap.  His  most 
friendly  overtures  to  the  cat  were  wholly  mis- 
understood and  resulted  only  in  an  armed  neu* 
trality  that,  varied  by  occasional  reigns  of  terror, 
continued  to  the  end  ;  which  came  when  Bingo, 
who  early  showed  a  mind  of  his  own,  got  s 

152 


ed,  guar- 
ery  char- 
wore  on 

,  the  nex! 
rely  this 
te  of  the 
the  foun- 
adequate 


nt  in  oui 
[fat,  well- 
nselfwith 
each  day. 
that  he 
iismost 
oily  mis- 
lied  neu- 
of  terror, 
n  Bingo, 
rn,  got  9 


notion  for  sleeping  at  the  bam  and  avoiding  Hie 
ihanty  altogether. 

When  the  spring  came  I  set  about  his  serious 
education.  After  much  pains  on  my  behalf  and 
many  pains  on  his,  he  learned  to  go  at  the  word 
in  quest  of  our  old  yellow  cow,  that  pastured  at 
will  on  the  unfenced  prairie. 

Once  he  had  learned  his  business,  he  became 
very  fond  of  it  and  nothing  pleased  him  more 
than  an  order  to  go  and  fetch  the  cow.  Away 
he  would  dash,  barking  with  pleasure  and  leap- 
ing high  in  the  air  that  he  might  better  scan  the 
plain  for  his  victim.  In  a  short  time  he  would 
return  driving  her  at  full  gallop  before  him,  and 
^ave  her  no  peace  until,  puffing  and  blowing,  she 
was  safely  driven  into  the  farthest  corner  of  her 
stable. 

XiCss  energy  on  his  part  would  have  been 
more  satisfactory,  but  we  bore  with  him  until 
he  grew  so  fond  of  this  semi-daily  hunt  that 
he  began  to  bring  '  old  Dunne '  without  being 
told.  And  at  length  not  once  or  twice  but  a 
dozen  times  a  day  this  energetic  cowherd  would 
sally  forth  on  his  own  responsibility  and  drive 
the  cow  home  to  the  stable. 


IS3 


Bingfo 


At  last  things  came  to  such  a  pass  that  when- 
ever  he  felt  like  taking  a  little  exercise,  or  had 
a  few  minutes  of  spare  time,  or  even  happened 
to  think  of  it,  Bingo  would  sally  forth  at  racing 
speed  over  the  plain  and  a  few  minutes  later 
return,  driving  the  unhappy  yellow  cow  at  full 
gallop  before  him. 

At  first  this  did  not  seem  vny  bad,  as  it  kept 
the  cow  from  straying  too  far ;  but  soon  it  was 
seen  that  it  hindered  her  feeding.  She  became 
thin  and  gave  less  milk ;  it  seemed  to  weigh  on 
her  mind  too,  as  she  was  always  watching  ner- 
vously  for  that  hateful  dog,  and  in  the  mornings 
would  hang  around  the  stable  as  though  afraid 
to  venture  off  and  subject  herself  at  once  to  an 
onsot. 

Th:s  was  going  too  far.  AH  attempts  to 
make  Bingo  more  moderate  in  his  pleasure  were 
failures,  so  he  was  compelled  to  give  it  up  al- 
together. After  this,  though  he  dared  not  bring 
her  home,  he  continued  to  show  his  interest  by 
lying  at  her  stable  door  while  she  was  being 
milked. 

As  the  summer  came  on  the  mosquitoes  be- 
came a  dreadful  plague,  and  the  consequent 

154 


it. 


bing^o 


dat  when- 
«,  or  had 
happened 
at  racing 
lUtes  later 
ow  at  full 

as  it  kept 
ton  it  was 
le  became 

weigh  on 
:hing  uer- 
:  mornings 
jgh  afraid 
mce  to  an 

empts  to 
isure  were 
it  up  al- 
not  bring 
nterest  by 
ivas  being 

nitoes  be- 
Qnsequent 


I 


vicious  switching  of  Dunne's  tail  at  milking* 
time  even  more  annoying  than  the  mosquitoes. 

Fred,  the  brother  who  did  the  milking,  was 
of  an  inventive  as  well  as  an  impatient  turn  of 
mind,  and  he  devised  a  simple  plan  to  stoj)  the 
switching.  He  fastened  a  brick  to  the  cow's 
tail,  then  set  blithely  about  his  work  assured  of 
unusual  comfort  while  the  rest  of  us  looked  on 
in  doubt. 

Suddenly  through  the  mist  of  mosquitoes 
came  a  dull  whack  and  an  outburst  of  '  Ian* 
guage.'  The  cow  went  on  placidly  chewing  till 
Fred  got  on  his  feet  and  furiously  attacked  her 
with  the  milking-stool.  It  was  bad  enough  to 
be  whacked  on  the  ear  with  a  brick  by  a  stupid 
old  cow,  but  the  uproarious  enjoyment  and  ridi- 
cule of  the  bystanders  made  it  unendurable. 

Bingo,  hearing  the  uproar,  and  divining  that 
he  was  needed,  rushed  in  and  attacked  Dunne 
on  the  other  side.  Before  the  affair  quieted 
down  the  milk  was  spilt,  the  pail  and  stool 
were  broken,  and  the  cow  ind  the  dog  severely 
beaten. 

Poor  Bingo  could  not  understand  it  at  all. 
He  had  long  ago  learned  to  despise  that  cow, 

IS5 


*i 


if;/ 


Bing;o 


9;    i 


li 


and  now  in  utter  disgust  he  decided  to  to* 
sake  even  her  stable  door,  and  from  that  time 
he  attached  himself  exclusively  to  the  horses, 
and  their  stable. 

The  cattle  were  mine,  the  horses  were  my 
brother's,  and  in  transferring  his  allegiance  frot.i 
the  cow-stable  to  the  horse-stable  Bingo  seemed 
to  give  me  up  too,  and  anything  like  daily 
companionship  ceased,  and,  yet,  whenever  any 
emergency  arose  Bingo  turned  to  me  and  1  to 
him,  and  both  seemed  to  feel  that  the  bond  be- 
tween man  and  dog  is  one  that  lasts  as  long  as 
life. 

The  only  other  occasion  on  which  Bingo 
acted  as  cowherd  was  in  the  autumn  of  the 
same  year  at  the  annual  Carberry  Fair,  Among 
the  dazzling  inducements  to  enter  one's  stock 
there  was,  in  addition  to  a  prospect  of  glory,  a 
cash  prize  of  *  two  dollars, '  for  the  '  best  col- 
lie in  training.' 

Misled  by  a  false  friend,  I  entered  Bingo, 
and  early  on  the  day  fixed,  the  cow  was  driven 
to  the  prairie  just  outside  of  the  village.  When 
the  time  came  she  was  pointed  out  to  Bingo 
and  the  word  given — '  Go  fetch  the  cow.'     It 

156 


[  to  to» 
bat  time 
e  horses 

vere  my 
ncefroiii 
D  seemed 
ke  daily 
ever  any 
and  1  to 
bond  be- 
1  long  as 

:h  Bingo 
n  of  the 
Among 
^'s  stock 
glory,  a 
jest  col- 
Bingo, 
driven 
When 
;o  Bingo 
:ow.'     It 


Bingfo 

was  the  intention,  of  course,  that  he  should 
bring  her  to  me  at  the  judge's  stand. 

But  the  animals  knew  better.  They  hadn't 
rehearsed  all  summer  for  nothing.  When  Dunne 
saw  Bingo's  careering  form  she  knew  that  her 
only  hope  for  safety  was  to  get  into  her  stable, 
and  Bingo  was  equally  sure  tliat  his  sole  mission 
in  life  was  to  quicken  her  pace  in  that  direction. 
So  off  they  raced  over  the  prairie,  like  a  wolf 
after  a  deer,  and  heading  straight  toward  their 
home  two  miles  away,  they  disappeared  from 
view. 

That  was  the  last  that  judge  or  jury  ever  saw 
of  dog  or  cow.  The  prize  was  awarded  to  the 
only  other  entry. 

Ill 

Bingo's  loyalty  to  the  horses  was  quite  re- 
markable; by  day  he  trotted  beside  them,  and 
by  night  he  slept  at  the  stable  door.  Where  the 
team  went  Bingo  went,  and  nothing  kept  him 
away  from  them.  This  interesting  assumption 
of  ownership  lent  the  greater  significance  to  the 
following  circumstance. 

157 


J  r 


I    ! 


\m\ 


I 


Btngfo 

t  was  not  superstitious,  and  up  to  this  time 
had  had  no  faith  in  omens,  but  was  now  deep- 
ly impressed  by  a  strange  occurrence  in  which 
Bingo  took  a  leading  part.  There  were  but 
two  of  us  now  living  on  the  De  Winton  Farm. 
One  morning  my  brother  set  out  for  Boggy 
Creek  for  a  load  of  hay.  It  was  a  long  day's 
journey  there  and  back,  and  he  made  an  early 
start.  Strange  to  tell,  Bingo  for  once  in  his  life 
did  not  follow  the  team.  My  brother  called  to 
him,  but  still  he  stood  at  a  safe  distance,  and 
eying  the  team  askance,  refused  to  stir.  ^Sud- 
denly he  raised  his  nose  in  the  air  and  gave  vent 
to  a  long,  melancholy  howl.  He  watched  the 
wagon  out  of  sight,  and  even  followed  for  a 
hundred  yards  or  so,  raising  his  voice  from  time 
to  time  in  the  most  doleful  bowlings.  All  that 
day  he  stayed  about  the  barn,  the  only  time 
that  he  was  willingly  separated  from  the  horses, 
and  at  intervals  iiowled  a  very  death  dirge.  1 
was  aloMe,  and  the  dog's  behavior  inspired  me 
with  an  awful  foreboding  of  calamity,  that 
weighed  upon  me  more  and  more  as  the  hours 
passed  away. 

About  six  o'clock  Bingo's  bowlings  becamr 
IS8 


t 


u 


BcngfO 

unbearable,  so  that  for  lack  of  a  better  thought 
1  threw  something  at  him,  and  ordered  him 
away.  But  oh,  the  feeling  of  horror  that  filled 
me  I  Why  did  I  let  my  brother  go  away  alone  ? 
Should  I  ever  again  see  him  alive?  I  might 
nave  known  from  the  dog's  actions  that  some- 
thmg  dreadful  was  about  to  happen. 

At  length  the  hour  for  his  return  arrived,  and 
there  was  John  on  his  load.  I  took  charge  of 
the  horses,  vastly  relieved,  and  with  an  air  of  as- 
tumed  unconcern,  asked,  "  All  right? " 

"  Right,"  was  the  laconic  answer. 

Who  now  can  say  that  there  is  nothing  in 
omens? 

And  yet,  when  long  afterward,  I  told  this  to 
one  skilled  in  the  occult,  he  looked  grave,  and 
said,  **  Bingo  always  turned  to  you  in  a  crisis  ?  " 

•*Yes." 

"  Then  do  not  smile.  It  was  you  that  were 
In  danger  that  day ;  he  stayed  and  saved  youz 
life,  though  you  never  knew  from  what.' ' 


( 


159 


':  ii;- 


I 


Bfng:o 


IV 


Early  in  the  spring  I  had  begun  Bingo's 
education.  Very  shortly  afterward  he  began 
mine. 

Midway  on  the  two-mile  stretch  of  prairie 
that  lay  between  our  shanty  and  the  village  of 
Carberry,  was  the  corner -stake  of  the  farm;  It 
was  a  stout  post  in  a  low  mound  of  earth,  and 
was  visible  from  afar. 

I  soon  noticed  that  Bingo  never  passed  with- 
out minutely  examining  this  mysterious  post. 
Next  I  learned  that  it  was  also  visited  by  the 
prairie  wolves  as  well  as  by  all  the  dogs  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  at  length,  with  the  aid  of  a 
telescope,  I  made  a  number  of  observations  that 
helped  me  to  an  understanding  of  the  matter 
and  enabled  me  to  enter  more  fully  into  Bingo's 
private  life. 

The  post  was  by  common  agreement  a  regis- 
try of  the  canine  tribes.  Their  exquisite  sense 
of  smell  enabled  each  individual  to  tell  at  once 
by  the  track  and  trace  what  other  had  recently 
been  at  the  post.     When  the  snow  came  much 

i6o 


n 


h 


Bingo 


more  was  revealed.  I  then  discovered  that  this 
post  was  but  one  of  a  system  that  covered  the 
country ;  that  in  short,  the  entire  region  was 
laid  out  in  signal  stations  at  convenient  inter- 
vals. These  were  marked  by  any  conspicuous 
post,  stone,  buiTalo  skull,  or  other  object  that 
chanced  to  be  in  the  desired  locality,  and  ex- 
tensive observation  showed  that  it  was  a  very 
complete  system  for  getting  and  giving  the 
news. 

Each  dog  or  wolf  makes  a  point  of  calling  at 
those  stations  that  are  near  his  line  of  travel 
to  learn  who  has  recently  been  there,  just  as  a 
man  calls  at  his  club  on  returning  to  town  and 
looks  up  the  register. 

I  have  seen  Bingo  approach  the  post,  sniff, 
examine  the  ground  about,  then  growl,  and 
with  bristling  mane  and  glowing  eyes,  scratch 
fiercely  and  contemptuously  with  his  hind  feet, 
finally  walking  off  very  stiffly,  glancing  back 
from  time  to  time.  All  of  which,  being  inter- 
preted, said : 

"  Grrrh  /  woof!  there's  that  dirty  cur  of 
McCarthy's.  Woof!  I'll'tend  to  him  to-night. 
Woof  I   woof  I  ^^    On  another  occasion,  after 

i6i 


i 


m 


BtngfO 

the  preliminaries,  he  became  keenly  interested 
and  studied  a  coyote's  track  that  came  and 
went,  saying  to  himself,  as  I  afterward  learned : 

**A  coyote  track  coming  from  the  north, 
smelling  of  dead  cow.  Indeed?  PoUworth's 
old  Brindle  must  be  dead  at  last.  This  is  worth 
looking  into." 

At  other  times  he  would  wag  his  tail,  trot 
about  the  vicinity  and  come  again  and  again  to 
make  his  own  visit  more  evident,  perhaps  for 
the  benefit  of  his  brother  Bill  just  back  from 
Brandon  !  So  that  it  was  not  by  chance  that 
one  night  Bill  turned  up  at  Bingo's  home  and 
was  taken  to  the  hills  where  a  delicious  dead 
horse  afforded  a  chance  to  suitably  celebrate 
the  reunion. 

At  other  times  he  would  be  suddenly  aroused 
^y  the  news,  take  up  the  trail,  and  race  to  the 
next  station  for  later  information. 

Sometimes  his  inspection  produced  only  an 
air  of  grave  attention,  as  though  he  said  to  him- 
self, "Dear  me,  who  the  deuce  is  this?"  or 
**  It  seems  to  me  I  met  that  fellow  at  the  Por- 
tage last  summer." 

One  morning  on  approaching  the  post  Bin- 
162 


Bingo 

go's  every  hair  stood  on  end,  his  tail  dropped 
ind  quivered,  and  he  gave  proof  that  he  was 
addenly  sick  at  the  stomach,  sure  signs  of 
.error.  He  showed  no  desire  to  follow  up  or 
know  more  of  the  matter,  but  returned  to  the 
house,  and  half  an  hour  afterward  his  mane  was 
still  bristling  and  his  expression  one  of  hate  or 
fear. 

I  stud'ed  the  dreaded  track  and  learned  that 
in  Bingo's  language  the  half-terrified;,  deep- 
gurgled  ^grrr-wff'  means  *  timber  wolf.* 

'These  were  anfong  the  things  that  Bingo 
taught  me.  And  in  the  after  time  when  I 
might  chance  to  see  him  arouse  from  his  frostj 
nest  by  the  stable  door,  and  after  stretching 
himself  and  shaking  the  snow  from  his  shaggy 
coat,  disappear  into  the  gloom  at  a  steady  trot 
trot,  trot,  I  used  to  think : 

' '  Aha  1  old  dog,  I  know  where  you  are  off 
to,  and  why  you  eschew  the  shelter  of  the 
shanty.  Now  I  know  why  your  nightly  tripe 
over  the  country  are  so  well  timed,  and  how 
you  know  just  where  to  go  for  what  you  want, 
and  when  and  how  to  seek  it'* 


I 


163 


;j  ^i 


Bing:o 


;■,  (I     i 


in  the  autumn  of  1884,  the  shanty  at  De 
Winton  farm  was  closed  and  Bingo  changed 
his  home  to  the  establishment,  that  is,  to  the 
stable,  not  the  house,  of  Gordon  Wright,  our 
most  intimate  neighbor. 

Since  the  winter  of  his  puppyhood  he  had 
declined  to  enter  a  house  at  any  time  excepting 
during  a  thunder-storm.  Of  thunder  and  guns 
he  had  a  deep  dread — no  doubt  the  fear  of  the 
first  originated  in  the  second,  and  that  arose 
from  some  unpleasant  shot-gun  experiences,  the 
cause  of  which  will  be  seen.  His  nightly 
couch  was  outside  the  stable,  even  during  the 
coldest  weather,  and  it  was  easy  to  see  that  he 
enjoyed  to  the  full  the  complete  nocturnal  liberty 
entailed.  Bingo's  midnight  wanderings  ex- 
tended across  the  plains  for  miles.  There  was 
plenty  of  proof  of  this.  Some  farmers  at  very 
remote  points  sent  word  to  old  Gordon  that  if 
he  did  not  keep  his  dog  home  nights,  they 
weald  use  the  shotgun,  and  Bingo's  terror  of 
firearms  would  indicate  that  the  threats  were 

16^ 


uoi 
sai( 
the 
cha 
bee 
a  w 
was 

awa 

c 

k. 

mei 

and 

seer 

woi 

had 

you 

cep 

and 

1 

in 

witl 

star 

Bin 

exei 

tan«. 

ther 


f? 


d. 


dm>;< 


siot  idle.  A  man  living  as  far  away  as  Petrel, 
said  he  saw  a  large  black  wolf  kill  a  coyote  on 
the  snow  one  winter  evening,  but  afterward  he 
changed  his  opinion  and  *  reckoned  it  must  'a* 
been  Wright's  dog.'  Whenever  the  body  of 
a  winter-killed  ox  or  horse  was  exposed,  Binpo 
was  sure  to  repair  to  it  nightly,  and  driving 
away  the  prairie  wolves,  feast  to  repletion. 

Sometimes  the  object  oi  a  night  foray  was 
merely  to  maul  some  distant  neighbor's  dog, 
and  notwithstanding  vengeful  threats,  there 
seemed  no  reason  to  fear  that  the  Bingo  breed 
would  die  ')ut.  One  man  even  avowed  that  he 
had  seen  a  .lairie  wolf  accompanied  by  three 
young  ones  which  resembled  the  mother,  ex- 
cepting that  they  were  very  large  and  black 
and  ha  i  a  ring  of  white  around  the  muzzle. 

True  or  not  as  that  may  be,  I  know  that  late 
in  March,  while  we  were  out  in  the  sleigh 
with  Bingo  trotting  behind,  a  prairie  wolf  was 
started  from  a  hollow.  Away  it  went  with 
Bingo  i "  full  chase,  but  the  wolf  did  not  greatly 
exert  itself  to  escape,  and  within  a  short  dis- 
tance Bingo  was  close  up,  yet  strange  to  tell, 
there  was  no  grappling,  no  fight  I 

165 


Ik 


oinso 


I 


Bingo  trotted  amiably  alongside  and  licked 
the  wolfs  nose. 

We  were  astounded,  and  shouted  to  urge 
Bingo  on.  Our  shouting  and  approach  several 
times  started  the  wolf  off  at  speed  and  Bingo 
again  pursued  until  he  had  overtaken  it,  but 
his  gentleness  was  too  obvious. 

"It  is  a  she- wolf,  he  won't  harm  her,"  I 
exclaimed  as  the  truth  dawned  on  me.  And 
Gordon  said:   "Well,  I  be  darned."  t. 

So  we  called  our  unwilling  dog  and  drove  on. 

For  weeks  after  this  we  were  annoyed  by 
the  depredations  of  a  prairie  wolf  who  killed 
our  chickens,  stole  pieces  of  pork  from  the  end 
of  the  house,  and  several  times  terrified  the 
children  by  looking  into  the  window  of  the 
shanty  while  the  men  were  away. 

Against  this  animal  Bingo  seemed  to  be  no 
safeguard.  At  length  the  wolf,  a  female,  was 
killed,  and  then  Bingo  plainly  showed  his  hand 
by  his  lasting  enmity  toward  Oliver,  the  man 
who  did  the  deed. 


ti 


! 


166 


Bingo  and  the  she-wolf. 


r 


6ing;o 


VI 


III 


It  is  wonderful  and  beautiful  how  a  man  and 
his  dog  will  stick  to  one  another,  through  thick 
and  thin.  Butler  tells  of  an  undivided  Indian 
tribe,  in  the  Far  North  which  was  all  but  ex> 
terminated  by  an  internecine  feud  over  a  dog 
that  belonged  to  one  man  and  was  killed  by 
his  neighbor;  and  among  ourselves  we  have 
lawsuits,  fights,  and  deadly  feuds,  all  pointing 
the  same  old  moral,  *  Love  me,  love  my  dog.' 

One  of  our  neighbors  had  a  very  fine  hound 
that  he  thought  the  best  and  dearest  dog  in  the 
world.  I  loved  him,  so  I  loved  his  dog,  and 
when  one  day  poor  Tan  crawled  home  terribly 
mangled  and  died  by  the  door,  I  joined  my 
threats  of  vengeance  with  those  of  his  master 
and  thenceforth  lost  no  opportunity  of  tracing 
the  miscreant,  both  by  offering  rewards  and  by 
collecting  scraps  of  evidence.  At  length  it 
was  clear  that  one  of  three  men  to  the  south* 
ward  had  had  a  hand  in  the  cruel  affair.  The 
scent  was  warming  up,  and  soon  we  should 
have  been  in  a  position  to  exact  rigorous  justice 

169 


ill 


ill 


IE 

■A 

■■  •; 

1 


I 


Bingfo 

at  least,  from  the  wretch  who  had  murdered  pooi 
old  Tan. 

Then  something  took  place  which  at  once 
changed  my  mind  and  led  me  to  believe  that 
the  mangling  of  the  old  hound  was  not  by  any 
means  an  unpardonable  crime,  but  indeed  on 
second  thoughts  was  rather  commendable  than 
otherwise.  >. 

Gordon  Wright's  farm  lay  to  the  south  or  us, 
and  while  there  one  day,  Gordon,  Jr.,  knowing 
that  I  was  tracking  the  murderer,  took  me 
aside  and  looking  about  furtively,  he  whispered, 
in  tragic  tones : 

"  It  was  Bing  done  it.** 

And  the  matter  dropped  right  there.  For  I 
confess  that  from  that  moment  I  did  all  in  my 
power  to  baffle  the  justice  I  had  previously 
striven  so  hard  to  further. 

I  had  given  Bingo  away  long  before,  but  the 
feeling  of  ownership  did  not  die;  and  of  this  in- 
dissoluble fellowship  of  dog  and  man  he  was 
soon  to  take  part  in  another  important  illus- 
tration. 

Old  Gordon  and  Oliver  were  close  neigh- 
bors and  friends;  they  joined  in  a  contract  to 

170 


IM' 


It  the 

lis  in- 

was 

lillus- 


leigh- 
Ict  to 


«ii 


J! 


Bingo  watched  while  Curley  feasted. 


V  Bing;o 

cut  wood,  and  worked  together  harmoniously 
till  late  on  in  winter.  'Ihcn  Oliver's  old  horse 
died,  and  he,  determining  to  profit  as  far  as 
possible,  dragged  it  out  on  the  i)lain  and  laid 
poison  baits  for  wolves  around  it.  Alas,  for 
poor  Bingo!  He  would  lead  a  wolfish  life, 
though  again  and  again  it  brought  him  into 
wolfish  misfortunes. 

He  was  as  fond  of  dead  horse  as  any  of  his 
wild  kindred,  'i'hat  very  night,  with  Wright's 
own  dog  Curley,  he  visited  the  carcass.  It 
leemed  as  though  Bing  had  busied  himsell 
chiefly  keeping  off  the  wolves,  but  Curley  feasted 
'mmoderatolv.  The  tracks  in  the  snow  told  the 
story  o"  the  banquet ;  the  interruj)tion  as  the 
poison  began  to  work,  and  of  the  dreadful 
spasms  of  pain  during  the  erratic  course  back 
home  where  Curley,  falling  ii.  convulsions  at 
Gordon's  feet,  died  in  the  greatest  agony. 

♦  Love  me,  love  my  dog,'  no  explanations 
or  apology  were  acceptable:  it  was  useless  to 
urge  that  it  was  accidental,  the  long-standing 
feud  between  Bingo  and  Oliver  was  now  remeno- 
bered  as  an  important  tide-light.  The  wood- 
contract  was  thrown  up,  all  friendly  relations 

173 


I 


1:' 


Bfng:o 

ceai^ed,  find  to  this  da>  inere  is  no  county  big 
cnoi;gh  to  hold  the  rival  factions  which  were 
called  at  once  into  existence  and  to  arms  by 
Curlcy's  dying  yell. 

It  was  months  before  Bingo  really  recovered 
from  the  poison.  We  believed  indeed  that  he 
never  again  would  be  the  sturdy  old-time  Bingo. 
But  when  the  spring  came  he  began  to  gain 
strength,  and  bettering  as  the  grass  grew,  he 
was  within  a  few  weel<soncc  more  in  full  health 
and  vigor  to  be  a  pride  to  his  friends  and  i 
nuisance  to  his  neighbors. 

VII 

Changes  took  me  far  away  from  Manitoba, 
and  on  my  return  in  1886  Bingo  was  still  a 
member  of  Wright's  household.  I  thought  he 
would  have  forgotten  me  after  two  years  ab- 
sence, but  not  so.  One  day  early  in  the  winter, 
after  having  been  lost  for  forty-eight  hours,  he 
cruwled  home  to  Wright's  with  a  wolf-trap  and 
a  heavy  log  fast  to  one  foot,  and  the  foot  frozen 
to  stony  hardness.  No  one  had  been  able  to 
approach  to  help  him,  he  was  so  savage,  when  I, 

»74 


<  -^ 


the  stranger  now,  stooped  down  and  laid  hold 
of  the  trap  with  one  hand  and  his  leg  with  the 
other.  Instantly  he  seized  my  wrist  in  his 
teeth. 

Without  acirring  I  said,  "  Bing,  don't  you 
know  me?" 

He  had  not  broken  the  skin  and  at  once  re> 
leased  his  hold  and  offered  no  further  resistance, 
although  he  whined  a  good  deal  during  the  re- 
moval of  the  trap.  He  still  acknowledged  me 
his  master  in  spite  of  his  change  of  residence 
and  my  long  absence,  and  notwithstanding  my 
surrender  of  ownership  I  still  felt  that  he  was 
my  dog. 

Bing  was  carried  into  the  house  niuch  against 
his  will  and  his  frozen  foot  thawed  out.  Dur- 
ing the  rest  of  the  winter  he  went  lame  and  two 
of  his  toes  eventually  dropped  off.  But  before 
the  return  of  warm  weather  his  health  and 
strength  were  fully  restored,  and  to  a  casual 
glance  he  bore  no  mark  of  his  dreadful  experi- 
ence in  the  steel  trap. 


175 


'm^ 


Vlr  — 


-^  .:.i^ 


/f-f^y 


»  A 


B'm^o 


VIII 

During  that  same  winter  I  caught  many  wolves 
and  foxes  who  did  not  have  Bingo's  good  luck 
in  escaping  the  traps,  which  I  kept  out  right 
into  the  spring,  for  bounties  are  good  even  when 
fur  is  not. 

Kennedy's  Plain  was  always  a  good  trapping 
ground  because  it  was  unfrequented  by  man  and 
yet  lay  between  the  heavy  woods  and  the  set- 
tlement. I  had  been  fortunate  with  the  fur 
here,  and  late  in  April  rode  in  on  one  of  my 
regular  rounds. 

The  wolf-traps  are  made  of  heavy  steel  and 
have  two  springs,  each  of  one  hundred  pounds 
power.  They  are  set  in  fours  around  a  buried 
bait,  and  after  being  strongly  fastened  to  con« 
cealed  logs  are  carefully  covered  in  cotton  and 
in  fine  sand  so  as  to  be  quite  invisible. 

A  prairie  wolf  was  caught  in  one  of  these.  I 
killed  him  with  a  club  and  throwing  him  aside 
proceeded  to  reset  the  trap  as  I  had  done  so 
many  hundred  times  before.  All  was  quickly 
iooe.    I  threw  the  trap-wrench  over  toward  the 

176 


Bins^o 

pony,  and  seeing  some  fine  sand  near  by,  k 
reached  out  for  a  handful  of  it  to  add  a  good 
finish  to  the  setting. 

Oh,  unlucky  thought  I  Oh,  mad  heedless- 
ness born  of  long  immunity  1  That  fine  sand 
was  on  the  next  wolf-trap  and  in  an  instant  I 
was  a  prisoner.  Although  not  wounded,  for 
the  traps  have  no  teeth,  and  my  thick  trapping 
gloves  deadened  the  snap,  I  was  firmly  caught 
across  the  hand  above  the  knuckles.  Not 
greatly  alarmed  at  this,  I  tried  to  reach  the 
trap-wrench  with  my  right  foot.  Stretching 
out  at  full  length,  face  downward,  I  worked 
myself  toward  it,  making  my  imprisoned 
arm  as  long  and  straight  as  possible.  I 
could  not  see  and  reach  at  the  same  time,  but 
counted  on  my  toe  telling  me  when  I  touched 
the  little  iron  key  to  my  fetters.  My  first  effort 
was  a  failure ;  strain  as  I  might  at  the  chain  my 
toe  struck  no  metal.  I  swung  slowly  around 
my  anchor,  but  still  failed.  Then  a  painfully 
taken  observation  showed  I  was  much  too  far  to 
the  west.  I  set  about  working  around,  tapping 
blindly  with  my  toe  to  discover  the  key.  Thug 
wildly  gropiog  with  my  right  foot  I  forgot 

177 


yv^.^_^^^    .  -»^.,,W 


14 


about  the  other  till  there  was  a  sharp  <  clank ' 
and  the  iron  jaws  of  trap  No.  3  closea  tight  on 
my  left  foot. 

The  terrors  of  the  situation  did  not,  at 
first,  impress  me,  but  I  soon  found  that  ail  my 
struggles  v^iC  in  vain.  I  could  not  get  free 
from  either  trap  or  move  the  traps  together, 
and  there  I  lay  stretched  out  and  firmly  staked 
to  the  ground. 

What  would  become  of  me  now  ?  There  was 
not  much  danger  of  freezing  for  the  cold  weather 
was  over,  but  Kennedy's  Plain  was  never  visited 
excepting  by  the  winter  wood-cutters.  No  one 
knew  where  I  had  gone,  and  unless  I  could  man- 
age to  free  mysc'»  here  was  no  prospect  anead 
but  to  be  devoureu  by  wolves,  or  else  die  o!  cold 
and  starvation. 

As  I  lay  there  the  red  sun  went  down  over  the 
spruce  swamp  west  of  *hc  plain,  and  a shoreiark 
on  a  gopher  mound  ■?.  i;  w  yards  off  twitterea  his 
evening  song,  just  as  ...ic  had  done  the  nignt  be- 
fore at  our  shanty  door,  and  though  the  numb 
pains  were  creeping  up  my  arm,  and  a  deadly  chill 
possessed  me,  I  noticed  how  long  his  little  ear- 
tufts  were.     Then  my  thoughts  went  to  the  com- 

178 


^rn^^l^' 


Bmg^o 


« clank ' 
light  on 

not,  at 
It  ail  my 

get  free 
together, 
ly  staked 

rhcre  was 
d  weather 
rer  visited 
No  one 
juld  mail* 
ect  anead 
lie  o!  cold 

n  over  the 
shoreiark 
itterea  his 
nignt  be- 
the  numb 
eadly  chill 
little  ear- 
)  the  com- 


fortable supp^r-table  at  Wright's  shanty,  and  i 
thought,  now  they  are  frying  the  pork  for  8up> 
per,  or  just  sitting  down.  My  pony  still  i>tood 
as  I  left  him  with  his  bridle  on  the  ground 
patiently  waiting  to  take  me  home.  He  did  not 
understand  the  long  delay,  and  when  I  called, 
he  ceased  nibbling  the  grass  and  looked  at  me 
in  dumb,  helpless  inquiry.  If  he  would  only  go 
home  the  empty  saddle  might  tell  the  tale  and 
bring  help.  But  his  very  faithfulness  kept  him 
wailing  hour  after  hour  while  I  was  perishing  of 
cold  and  hunger. 

Then  I  remembered  how  old  Girou  the  trap- 
per had  been  lost,  and  in  the  following  spring 
his  comrades  found  his  skeleton  held  by  the;  leg 
in  a  bear-trap.  I  -vondered  which  part  of  my 
clothing  would  show  my  identity.  Then  a  new 
thought  cam*^  to  me.  This  is  how  a  wolf  feels 
when  he  is  trapped.  Oh  I  what  misery  have 
I  been  responsible  for  I     Now  I'm  to  pay  for  it. 

Night  came  slowly  on.  A  prairie  wolf  howled, 
the  pony  pricked  up  his  ears  and  walking  nearer 
to  me,  stood  with  his  head  down.  Then  another 
prairie  wolf  howled  and  another,  and  I  could 
TOake  out  that  they  were  gathering  in  the  neiKh- 

179 


■t. 


SV,^  .; 


Dorhood.  There  I  lay  [trone  and  helpless,  won- 
oering  if  it  would  not  be  strictly  jiist  that  they 
should  come  and  tear  me  to  pieces.  I  heard 
them  calling  for  a  long  time  before  I  realized 
that  dim,  shadowy  forms  were  sneaking  near. 
The  horse  saw  them  first,  and  his  terrified  snort 
drove  them  back  at  first,  but  they  came  nearer 
next  time  and  sat  around  me  on  the  prairie. 
Soon  one  bolder  than  the  others  crawled  up  and 
tugged  at  the  body  of  his  dead  relative.  I 
shouted  and  he  retreated  growling.  The  pony 
ran  to  a  distance  in  terror.  Presently  the 
wolf  returned,  and  after  two  or  three  of  these 
retreats  and  returns,  the  body  was  dragged  off 
and  devoured  by  the  rest  in  a  few  minutes. 

After  this  they  gath,  ed  nearer  and  sat  on 
their  haunches  to  look  at  me,  and  the  boldest 
one  smelt  the  rifle  and  scratched  dirt  on  it. 
He  retreated  when  I  kicked  at  him  with  my 
free  foot  and  shouted,  but  growing  bolder  as  I 
grow  weaker  he  came  and  snarled  right  in  my 
face.  At  this  several  others  snarled  and  came 
up  closer,  and  I  -ealized  that  I  was  to  be  de- 
voured by  the  foe  that  I  most  despised,  v;hen 
suddenly  out  of  the  gloom  with  a  guttural  r? ar 

1 80 


Bmg;o 


ess,  won- 
that  they 

I  heard 

realized 
ing  near, 
fied  snort 
le  nearer 
:  prairie. 
;d  up  and 
ative.  I 
rhe  pony 
jntly   the 

of  these 
igged  off 
lutes. 
pd  sat  on 
e  boldest 
rt  on  it. 
with  my 

der  as  I 
in  my 

ind  came 
be  de- 

:d,  v;hen 

ural  rpar 


sprang  a  great  black  wolf.  The  prairie  woiv*a 
scattered  like  chaff  except  the  bold  one,  whicn 
seized  by  the  black  new-comer  was  in  a  tew 
moments  a  draggled  corpse,  and  then,  oh  hor- 
rors !  this  mighty  Ivutt  bounded  at  me  and — 
Bingo — noble  Bingti,  rubbed  his  siiaggy,  {xmt- 
ing  sides  against  me  and  licked  my  cold  face. 

"Bingo — Bing — old — boy — Fetch  me  the 
trap-wrench  !  ' ' 

Away  he  went  and  returned  dragging  the 
rifle,  for  he  knew  only  that  I  wanted  some- 
thing. 

"  No — Bing — the  trap-wrench."  This  time 
it  was  my  sash,  but  at  last  he  brought  the 
wrench  and  wag^-^d  his  tail  in  joy  that  it  was 
right.  Reaching  out  with  my  free  hand,  after 
much  difficulty  I  unscrewed  the  pillar-nut. 
The  trap  fell  apart  and  my  hand  was  re- 
leased, and  a  minute  later  I  was  free.  Bing 
brought  the  pony  up,  and  after  slowly  walk- 
ing to  restore  the  circulation  I  was  able  to 
mount.  Then  slowly  at  first  but  soon  at  a 
gallop,  with  Bingo  as  herald  careering  and  bark- 
ing ahead,  we  set  out  for  home,  there  to 
learn  that  the  night  before,  though  never  taken 

i8i 


;|;lU 


\'M 


■:\ 


m 


41         ' 


on  the  trapping  rounds,  the  brave  dog  had  acted 
ftrangely,  whimpering  and  watching  the  tim* 
ber-trail ;  and  at  last  when  night  came  on,  in 
ipite  of  attempts  to  detain  him  he  had  set  out 
in  the  gloom  and  guided  by  a  knowledge  that 
is  beyond  us  had  reached  the  spot  in  time  to 
avenge  me  as  well  as  set  me  free. 

Stanch  old  Bing — he  was  a  strange  dog. 
Thou/^h  his  heart  was  with  me,  he  passed  me 
next  day  with  scarcely  a  look,  but  responded 
with  alacrity  when  little  Gordon  called  him  to 
a  gopher-hunt.  And  it  was  so  to  the  end; 
and  to  the  end  also  he  lived  the  wolfish  life 
that  he  loved,  and  never  failed  to  seek  the  win- 
ter-killed horses  and  found  one  again  with  a 
poisoned  bait,  and  wolfishly  bolted  that ;  then 
feeling  the  pang,  set  out,  not  for  Wright's  but 
to  find  me,  and  reached  the  door  of  my  shanty 
where  I  should  have  been.  Next  day  on  re- 
turning I  found  him  dead  in  the  snow  with  his 
head  on  the  sill  of  the  door — the  door  of  his 
puppyhood's  days ;  my  dog  to  the  last  in  his 
heart  of  hearts  —  it  was  my  help  he  sought, 
and  vainly  sought,  in  the  hour  of  his  bitter  es 
iremity. 

182 


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ed  him  to 
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k  the  win- 
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ight's  but 
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Hiotographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WIST  MAIN  STRIIT 

WnSTIR.N.Y.  MStO 

(716)872-4S03 


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4^^^' 


* 


The  Springfield  Fox 


HE  hens  had  been  mysteriously  disap* 
pearing  for  over  a  month  ;  and  when 
I  came  home  to  Springfield  for  the 
summer  holidays  it  was  my  duty  to 
find  the  cause.  This  was  soon  done. 
The  fowls  were  carried  away  bodi'  v 
one  at  a  time,  before  going  to  roost 
or  else  after  leaving,  which  put  tramps  and 
neighbors  out  of  court ;  they  were  not  taken 
from  the  high  perches,  which  cleared  all  coons 
and  owls  ;  or  left  partly  eaien,  so  that  weasels, 
skunks,  or  minks  were  not  the  guilty  ones,  and 
the  blame,  therefore,  was  surely  left  at  Rey- 
nard's door. 

The  great  pine  wood  of  Erindale  was  on  the 
other  bank  of  the  river,  and  on  looking  care- 

187 


;ii 


U 


I 


The  Sprint^field  Fox 


I  It 


flilky  about  the  lower  ford  I  saw  a  few  fox-tracKS 
•nd  a  barred  feather  from  one  of  our  Plymouth 
Rock  chickens.  On  climbing  the  farther  bank 
in  search  of  more  clews,  I  heard  a  great  outcry 
of  crows  behind  me,  and  turning,  saw  a  number 
of  these  birds  darting  down  at  something  in  the 
ford.  A  better  view  showed  that  it  was  the  old 
story,  thief  catch  thief,  for  there  in  the  middle 
of  the  ford  was  a  fox  with  something  in  his 
jaws — he  was  returning  from  our  barnyard  v/ith 
another  hen.  The  crows,  though  shameless  rob- 
bers themselves,  are  ever  first  to  cry  '  Stop 
thief,'  and  yet  more  than  ready  to  take  'hush- 
money  '  in  the  form  of  a  share  in  the  plunder. 

And  this  was  their  game  now.  The  fox  to 
get  back  home  must  cross  the  river,  where  he 
was  exposed  to  the  full  brunt  of  th^  crow  mob. 
He  made  a  dash  for  it,  and  would  doubtless  have 
gotten  across  with  his  booty  had  I  not  joined  in 
the  attack,  whereupon  he  dropped  the  hen, 
scarce  dead,  and  disappeared  in  the  woods. 

This  large  and  regular  levy  of  provisions 
wholly  carried  off  could  mean  but  one  thing,  a 
family  of  little  foxes  at  home ;  and  to  f  nd  them 
1  now  was  hound 

Jt88 


a 
a 


f( 
Ic 
ai 
T 
w 
tl 
bi 

sv 


I  \. 


The  Springfficld  Fox 


That  evening  I  went  with  Ranger,  my  hound, 
across  the  river  into  the  Erindale  woods.  As 
soon  as  the  hound  began  to  circle,  we  heard 
the  short,  sharp  bark  of  a  fox  from  a  thickly 
wooded  ravine  close  by.  Ranger  dashed  in  at 
once,  struck  a  hot  scent  and  went  off  on  a  lively 
straight-away  till  his  voice  was  lost  in  the  dis- 
tance away  over  the  upland. 

After  nearly  an  hour  he  came  back,  panting 
and  warm,  for  it  was  baking  August  weather, 
and  lay  down  at  my  feet. 

But  almost  immediately  the  same  foxy  '  Yap 
yurrr*  was  heard  close  at  hand  and  off  dashed 
the  dog  on  another  chase. 

Away  he  went  in  the  darkness,  baying  like  a 
foghorn,  straight  away  to  the  north.  And  the 
loud  *  Boo,  boo, '  became  a  low  *  oo,  oo* 
and  that  a  feeble  '  o-o '  and  then  was  lost. 
They  must  have  gone  some  miles  away,  for  even 
with  ear  to  the  ground  I  heard  nothing  of  them 
though  a  mile  was  easy  distance  for  Ranger's 
brazen  voice. 

As  I  waited  in  the  black  woods  I  heard  a 
sweet  soimd  of  dripping  water:  *  Tink  tank 
ienk  tink,  Ta  tink  tank  tenk  tonk* 

189 


vif 


3 
*  I  if ' 


1,1' 


^^♦i 


m 


! 

If  t 


i"   I'll 


Tbc  Spffla(fidd  Fox 

I  did  not  know  of  any  spring  m  near,  and  in 
the  hot  night  it  was  a  glad  find.  But  the  sound 
led  me  to  the  bough  of  an  oak-tree,  where  I 
found  its  source.  Siich  a  soft  sweet  song ;  full 
of  delightful  suggestion  on  such  a  night : 

Tmk  tank  tenk  Hnk 
Ta  tiitk  a  tmk  a  tank  u^  tink  a 
Ta  ta  tink  tank  ta  ta  tank  tink 
Drink  a  tank  a  drink  a  drunk. 

It  was  the  'water-dripping'  song  of  the 
saw-whet  owl. 

But  suddenly  a  deep  raucous  breathing  and 
a  rustle  of  leaves  showed  that  Ranger  was  bacL 
He  was  completely  fagged  out.  His  tongue 
hung  almost  to  the  ground  and  was  dripping  with 
foam,  his  flanks  were  heaving  and  spume-flecks 
dribbled  from  his  breast  and  sides.  He  stopped 
panting  a  moment  to  give  my  hand  a  dutiful 
lick,  thei:  flung  himself  flop  on  the  leavcii  to 
drown  all  other  sounds  with  his  noisy  panting. 

But  again  that  tantahzmg  *Yap  yurrr*  was 
heard  a  few  feet  away,  and  the  meaninr,  of  it 
all  dawned  on  me. 

We  were  dose  to  the  den  where  the  little 

m 


c 

ai 
b 
a 
ai 


ioxes  were,  and  the  old  ones  were  taking  turna 
in  trying  to  lead  us  away. 

It  was  late  night  now,  so  we  went  home  feel* 
ing  sure  that  the  problem  was  nearly  solved. 


n 


It  was  well  known  that  there  was  an  old  fox 
with  his  family  living  in  the  neighborhood,  but 
no  one  supposed  them  so  near. 

This  fox  had  been  called  *Scarface,'  be- 
cause of  a  scar  reaching  from  his  eye  through 
and  back  of  his  ear  ;  this  was  supposed  to  have 
been  given  him  by  a  barbed-wire  fence  during 
a  rabbit  hunt,  and  as  the  hair  came  in  white 
after  it  healed,  it  was  always  a  strong  mark. 

The  winter  before  I  had  met  with  him  and  had 
had  a  sample  of  his  craftiness.  I  was  out  shoot- 
ing, after  a  fall  of  i,now,  and  had  crossed  the 
open  fields  to  the  edge  of  the  brushy  hollow 
back  of  the  old  mill.  As  my  head  rose  to  a 
view  of  the  hollow  I  caught  sight  of  a  fox 
trotting  at  long  range  down  the  other  side,  in 
line  to  cross  my  course.  Instantly  I  held  mo- 
tionless, and  did  not  even  lower  or  turn  my 


\ 
% 


m(} 


The  Spring^ffcld  Fox 

nead  lest  I  should  catch  his  eye  by  moving, 
until  he  went  on  out  of  sight  in  the  thick  cover 
at  the  bottom.  As  soon  as  he  was  hidden  I 
bobbed  down  and  ran  to  head  him  off  where 
he  should  leave  the  cover  on  the  other  side,  and 
was  there  in  good  time  awaiting,  but  no  fox 
came  forth.  A  careful  look  showed  the  fresh 
track  of  a  fox  that  had  bounded  from  the  cover, 
and  following  it  with  my  eye  I  saw  old  Scar- 
face  himself  far  out  of  range  behind  me,  sitting 
on  his  haunches  and  grinning  as  though  much 
amused. 

A  study  of  the  trail  made  all  clear.  He  had 
seen  me  at  the  moment  I  saw  him,  but  he,  also 
like  a  true  hunter,  had  concealed  the  fact,  pu^ 
ting  on  an  air  of  unconcern  till  out  of  sight, 
when  he  had  run  for  his  life  around  behirid  ioe 
and  amused  himself  by  watching  my  sti.lboiA> 
trick. 

In  the  springtime  I  had  yet  another  insta'ice 
of  Scarface's  cunning.  I  was  walking  with 
a  friend  along  the  road  over  the  high  pasture. 
We  passed  within  thirty  feet  of  a  ridge  on  which 
were  several  gray  and  brown  bowlders.  When 
at  the  nearest  point  my  friend  said : 

193 


^) 


III 


Ifii 


ii^ 


/i 


The  6ptiagiield  Fox 

^  Stone  number  three  looks  to  me  very  much 
like  a  fox  curled  up." 

But  I  could  not  see  it,  and  we  passed.  We 
had  not  gone  many  yards  farther  when  the  wind 
blew  on  this  bowlder  as  on  fur. 

My  friend  said,  "  I  am  sure  that  is  a  (of^ 
lying  asleep." 

"We'll  soon  settle  that,"  I  replied,  and 
turned  back,  but  as  soon  as  I  had  taken  one 
step  from  the  road,  up  jumped  Scarface,  for  it 
was  he,  and  ran.  A  fire  had  swept  the  middle 
of  the  pasture,  leaving  a  broad  belt  of  black ; 
over  this  he  skurried  till  he  came  to  the  unburnt 
yellow  grass  again,  where  he  squatted  down  and 
was  lost  to  view.  He  had  been  watching  us  all 
the  time,  and  would  not  have  moved  had  we 
kept  to  the  road.  The  wonderful  part  of  this  is, 
not  that  he  resembled  the  round  stones  and  dry 
grass,  but  that  he  ^nnv  he  did,  and  was  ready 
to  profit  by  it. 

We  soon  found  that  it  was  Scarface  and  hit 
wife  Vixen  that  had  made  our  woods  their 
home  and  our  barnyard  their  base  of  supplies. 

Next  morning  a  search  in  the  pines  showed 
o,  \pKsX  bank  "^f  earth  that  had  been  scratchei^ 

193 


J 


f. 


If 


III 


Bl 


lutt  SpnDgfncU  Fox 

up  within  a  few  months.  It  must  have  come 
frmn  a  hole,  and  yet  there  was  none  to  be  seen. 
It  b  well  known  that  a  really  cute  fox,  on  dig- 
ging a  new  den,  brings  all  the  earth  out  at  the 
first  hole  made,  but  carries  on  a  tunnel  into 
tome  distant  thicket.  Then  closing  up  for  good 
the  first  made  and  too  well-marked  door,  uses 
only  the  entrance  hidden  in  the  thicket. 

So  after  a  little  search  at  the  other  side  of  a 
knoll,  I  found  the  real  entry  and  good  proof 
that  there  was  a  nest  of  little  foxes  inside. 

Rising  above  the  brush  on  the  hillside  was  a 
great  hollow  basswood.  It  leaned  a  good  deal 
and  had  a  large  hole  at  the  bottom,  and  a  smaller 
one  at  top. 

We  boys  had  often  used  this  tree  in  playing 
Swiss  Family  Robinson,  and  by  cutting  steps 
in  its  soft  punky  walls  had  made  it  easy  to  go  up 
and  down  in  the  hollow.  Now  it  came  in  handy, 
for  next  day  when  the  sun  was  warm  I  went 
there  to  watch,  and  from  this  perch  on  the  roof, 
I  soon  saw  the  interesting  family  that  lived  in 
the  cellar  near  by.  There  were  four  little  foxes ; 
they  looked  curiously  like  little  lambs,  with 
4faeir  wooUy  coats,  their  long  thick  legs  ard  In 

194 


The  2>pring;iield  Fox 


\i 


[ll 


I 


a 
■s 
% 

c 
o 

'S 
8 


h     i 


o 

5 

I 

•a 

a? 

3 


Docent  expresrions,  and  yet  a  second  glance 
at  their  broad,  sharp-nosed,  sharp-eyed  visages 
showed  that  each  of  these  innocents  was  the 
makings  of  a  crafty  old  fox. 

They  played  about,  basking  in  the  sun,  or 
wrestling  with  each  other  till  a  slight  sound 
made  them  skurry  under  ground.  But  their 
alarm  was  needless,  for  the  cause  of  it  was  their 
mother;  she  stepped  from  the  bushes  bringing 
another  hen — number  seventeen  as  I  remember. 
A  low  call  from  her  and  the  little  fellows  came 
tumbling  out.  Then  began  a  scene  that  I 
thought  charming,  but  which  my  uncle  would 
not  have  enjoyed  at  all. 

They  rushed  on  the  hen,  and  tussled  and 
fought  with  it,  and  each  other,  while  the  mother, 
keeping  a  sharp  eye  for  enemies,  looked  on  with 
fond  delight.  The  expression  on  her  face  was 
remarkable.  It  was  first  a  grinning  of  delight, 
but  her  usual  look  of  wildness  and  cunning  was 
there,  nor  were  cruelty  and  nervousness  lacking, 
but  over  all  was  the  unmistakable  look  of  the 
mother's  pride  and  love. 

The  base  of  my  tree  was  hidden  m  bushes 
aud  much  lower  than  the  knoll  where  the  den 


iii! 


197 


«  It 


'm 


The  Springfield  FoK 


ft    !i 


was.  So  I  could  come  and  go  at  will  without 
scaring  the  foxes. 

For  many  days  I  went  there  and  saw  much 
of  the  training  of  the  yoimg  ones.  They  early 
learned  to  turn  to  statuettes  at  any  strringe 
•ound,  and  then  on  hearing  it  again  or  finding 
other  cause  for  fear,  to  run  for  shelter. 

Some  animals  have  so  much  mother-love  that 
it  overflows  and  baneiits  outsiders.  Not  so  old 
Vixen  it  would  seem.  Her  pleasure  in  the  cubs 
led  to  most  refined  cruelty.  For  she  often 
brought  home  to  them  mice  and  birds  alive,  and 
with  diabolic  gentleness  would  avoid  doing 
them  serious  hurt  so  that  the  cubs  might  have 
larger  scope  to  torment  them. 

There  was  a  woodchuck  that  lived  over  in 
the  hill  orchard.  He  was  neither  handsome 
nor  interesting,  but  he  knew  now  to  take  care 
of  himself.  He  had  digged  a  den  between  the 
roots  of  an  old  pine  stump,  so  that  the  foxes 
could  not  follow  him  by  digging.  But  hard 
work  was  not  their  way  of  life ;  wits  they  be- 
lieved worth  more  than  elbow-grease.  This 
woodchuck  usually  sunned  himself  on  the  stump 
each  morning.     If  he  saw  a  fox  near  he  went 

198 


ill  without 

saw  much 
They  early 
iny  strange 
I  or  finding 
er. 

cr-love  that 
Not  so  old 
!  in  the  cubs 
r  she  often 
is  alive,  and 
ivoid  doing 
might  have 

ved  over  in 
r  handsome 
to  take  care 
between  the 
at  the  foxes 
But  hard 
trits  they  be- 
ease.  This 
)n  the  stump 
aear  he  went 


The  Springffield  Fox 

down  in  the  door  of  his  den,  or  if  the  enemy 
was  very  near  he  went  inside  and  stayed  long 
enough  for  the  danger  to  pass. 

One  morning  Vixen  and  her  mate  seemed  to 
decide  that  it  was  time  the  children  knew  some* 
thing  about  the  broad  subject  of  Woodchucks, 
and  further  that  this  orchard  woodchuck  would 
serve  nicely  for  an  object-lesson.  So  they  went 
together  to  the  orchard-fence  unseen  by  old 
Chuckie  on  his  stump.  Scarface  then  showed 
himself  in  the  orchard  and  quietly  walked  in 
a  line  so  as  to  pass  by  the  stump  at  a  dis- 
tance, but  never  once  turned  his  head  or  al- 
lowed the  ever-watchful  woodchuck  to  think 
himself  seen.  When  the  fox  entered  the  field 
the  woodchuck  quietly  dropped  down  to  the 
mouth  of  his  den ;  here  he  waited  as  the  fox 
passed,  but  concluding  that  after  all  wisdom  is 
the  better  part,  went  into  his  hole. 

This  was  what  the  foxes  wanted.  Vixen  had 
kept  out  of  sight,  but  now  ran  swiftly  to  the 
stump  and  hid  behind  it.  Scarface  had  kept 
straight  on ,  going  very  slowly.  The  woodchuck 
had  not  been  frightened,  so  before  long  his  head 
popped  up  between  the  roots  and  he  looked 

199 


-rtl 


The  Springfield  Fox 


.11'  *  • 


hi 


around.  There  was  that  fox  still  going  Ott, 
farther  and  farther  away.  The  woodchuck  grew 
bold  as  the  fox  went,  and  came  out  farther,  and 
then  seeing  the  coast  clear,  he  scrambled  onto 
the  stump,  and  with  one  spring  Vixen  had  him 
and  shook  him  till  he  lay  senseless.  Scarface 
had  watched  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  and 
now  came  running  back.  Bet  Vixen  took  the 
chuck  in  her  jaws  and  made  for  the  den,  so  he 
saw  he  wasn't  needed. 

Back  to  the  den  came  Vix,  and  carried  the 
chuck  so  carefully  that  he  was  able  to  struggle 
a  little  when  she  got  there.  A  low  *  woof*  at 
the  den  brought  the  little  fellows  out  like  school- 
boys  to  play.  She  threw  the  wounded  animal 
to  them  and  they  set  on  him  like  four  little 
furies,  uttering  little  growls  and  biting  little 
bites  with  all  the  strength  of  their  baby  jaws, 
but  the  woodchuck  fought  for  his  life  and  beat- 
ing them  off  slowly  hobbled  to  the  shelter  of  a 
tfiicket.  The  little  ones  pursued  like  a  pack 
of  hounds  and  dragged  at  his  taU  and  flanks,  but 
could  not  hold  him  back.  So  Vix  overtook 
him  with  a  couple  of  bounds  and  dragged  him 
again  into  the  open  for  the  children  to  worry. 

300 


;oing  oifc, 

luck  grew 

rther,  and 

bled  onto 

1  had  him 

Scarface 

• 

s  eye  and 

took  the 

den,  so  he 

arried  the    \ 

to  struggle    \ 

*wo0/*  at 

ike  school- 
ed animal 
four  little 
iting  little 
baby  jaws, 
;  and  beat* 
helter  of  a 
ike  a  pack 
flanks,  but 
:  overtook 
agged  him 
I  to  worry. 


11 


Vix  shows  the  cubs  how  to  caich  mice. 


The  Springfield  Fox 


fe 


y 


^ 


Again  and  again  this  rough  sport  went  on  tin 
one  of  the  little  ones  was  badly  bitten,  and  his 
squeal  of  pain  roused  Vix  to  end  the  woodchuck's 
misery  and  serve  him  up  at  once. 

Not  far  from  the  den  was  a  hollow  overgrown 
with  coarse  grass,  the  playground  of  a  colony 
of  field-mice.  The  earliest  lesson  in  woodcraft 
that  the  little  ones  took,  away  ^om  the  den, 
was  in  this  hollow.  Here  they  had  their  first 
course  of  mice,  the  easiest  of  all  game.  In 
teaching,  the  main  thing  was  example,  aided  by 
a  deep-set  instinct.  The  old  fo:.,  also,  had 
one  or  two  signs  meaning  "lie still  and  watch," 
"  come,  do  as  I  do,"  and  so  on,  that  were  much 
used. 

So  the  merry  lot  went  to  this  hollow  one 
calm  evening  and  Mother  Fox  made  them  lie 
still  in  the  grass.  Presently  a  faint  squeak 
showed  that  the  game  was  astir.  Vix  rose  up 
and  went  on  tip-toe  into  the  grass — not  crouch- 
ing but  as  high  as  she  could  stand,  sometimes 
on  her  hind  legs  so  as  to  get  a  better  view.  The 
runs  that  the  mice  follow  are  hidden  under  the 
grass  tangle,  and  the  only  way  to  know  the 
whereabouts  of  a  mouse  is  by  seeing  the  slight 


il 


4 

m 

*  •  'I 

'■    ^     If  '  iiS 

m 


lir 


203 


A  he  Spring^field  Fox 


shaking  of  the  grass,  which  is  the  reason  wh) 
mice  are  hunted  only  on  calm  days. 

And  the  trick  is  to  locate  the  mouse  and 
seize  him  first  and  see  him  afterward.  Vix 
soon  made  a  spring,  and  in  the  middle  of  the 
bunch  of  dead  grass  that  she  grabbed  was  a 
field-mouse  squeaking  his  last  squeak. 

He  was  soon  gobbled,  and  the  four  awkward 
little  foxes  tried  to  do  the  same  as  their  mother^ 
and  when  at  length  the  eldest  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  caught  game,  he  quivered  with  excite- 
ment and  ground  his  pearly  little  milk-teeth 
into  the  mouse  with  a  rush  of  inborn  savage- 
ness  that  must  have  surprised  even  hims«.lf. 

Another  home  lesson  was  on  the  red-squir- 
rel. One  of  these  noisy,  vulgar  creatures,  lived 
close  by  and  used  to  waste  part  of  each  day 
scolding  the  foxes,  from  some  safe  perch.  The 
cubs  made  many  vain  attempts  to  catch  him  as 
he  ran  across  their  glade  from  one  tree  to  an- 
other, or  spluttered  and  scolded  at  them  a  foot 
«r  so  out  of  reach.  But  old  Vixen  was  up  in 
natuiil  history — ^she  knew  squirrel  nature  and 
took  the  case  in  hand  when  the  proper  time 
'*«me.     She  hid  the  children  'irjid  lay  down  fiat 


204 


The  Springfield  Fox 

in  the  middle  of  the  open  glade.  The  saucy 
loviT-minded  squirrel  came  and  scolded  as  usual. 
But  she  Kioved  no  hair.  He  came  nearer  and 
at  last  right  overhead  to  chatter : 

"  You  brute  you,  you  brute  you." 

But  Vix  lay  as  dead.  This  was  very  per- 
plexing, so  the  squirrel  came  down  the  trunk 
and  peeping  about  made  a  nervous  dash  across 
the  glass,  to  another  tree,  again  to  scold  from 
a  safe  perch. 

"  You  brute  you,  you  useless  brute,  scarrr- 
scarrrrr. ' ' 

^  But  flat  and  lifeless  on  the  grass  lay  Vix. 
This  was  most  tantalizing  to  the  squirrel.  He 
was  naturally  curious  and  disposed  to  be  venture- 
some, so  again  he  came  to  the  ground  and  skur- 
ried  across  the  glade  nearer  than  before. 

Still  as  death  lay  Vix,  "  surely  she  was  dead.'* 
And  the  little  foxes  began  to  wonder  if  their 
mother  wasn't  asleep. 

But  the  squirrel  was  working  himself  into 
a  little  craze  of  foolhardy  curiosity.  He  had 
dropped  a  piece  of  bark  on  Vix's  head,  he  had 
used  up  his  list  of  bad  words  and  he  had  done 
it  all  over  again,  without  getting  a  sign  of  lite 

205 


■  ;     I 


I' 


i! 


file  dprm^tield  foac 

So  after  a  couple  mure  dashes  acrosE  the  glade 
he  ventured  within  a  few  feet  of  the  really  watch- 
ful Vix,  who  sprang  to  lier  feet  and  pinned  him 
in  a  twinkling. 

"And  the  little  ones  picked  the  bones  e-oh." 

Thus  the  rudiments  of  their  education  were 
kid,  and  afterward  as  they  grew  stronger  they 
were  taken  farther  afield  to  begin  the  higher 
branches  of  trailing  and  scenting. 

For  each  kind  of  prey  they  were  taught  a  way 
to  hunt,  for  every  animal  has  some  great  strength 
or  it  could  not  live,  and  some  great  weakness 
or  the  others  could  not  live.  The  squirrel's 
weaknes!"  was  foolish  curiosity;  the  fox's  that 
he  can't  climb  a  tree.  And  the  training  of  the 
little  foxes  was  all  shaped  to  take  advantage  of 
the  weakness  of  the  other  creatures  and  to  make 
up  for  their  own  by  defter  play  where  they  are 
strong. 

From  their  parents  they  learned  the  chief 
axioms  of  the  fox  world.  How,  is  not  easv 
to  say.  But  that  they  learned  this  in  compat.  ' 
with  their  parents  was  clear.  Here  are  some 
that  foxes  taught  me,  without  saying  a  word : — 

Never  sleep  on  your  straight  track. 


5^Tulth£  lifrte  ones  ntcktd  his  Bones  iohi 


e  glade 

watch- 

nedhim 

se-oh." 
jn  were 
ger  they 
!  higher 

ht  a  way 
strength 
nreakness 
Kiuirrel's 
ox's  that 
ng  of  the 
ntage  of 
to  make 
they  are 

:he  chief 
not  easv 
compat.  ' 
are  some 
word  :— 


..■9, 


f/ 


'/ 


The  Spsin^fiidi  Fox 
Your  nose  is  before  your  eyes,  then  trust  it 

A  fool  runs  down  the  wind. 

Running  rills  cure  many  ills. 

Never  take  the  open  if  you  ran  kc^ip  tl^je 
cover. 

Never  leave  a  stiaight  trail  if  a  crooked  one 
will  do. 

If  it's  strange,  it's  hostile. 

Dust  and  water  bum  the  scent. 

Never  hunt  mice  in  a  rabbit-woods,  or  rab* 
bits  in  a  henyard. 

Keep  off  the  grass. 

Inklings  of  the  meanings  of  these  were  al< 
ready  entering  the  little  ones'  minds — thus, 
•  Never  follow  what  you  can't  smell,'  was  wise, 
they  could  see,  because  if  you  can't  smell  it, 
then  the  wind  is  so  that  it  must  smell  you. 

One  by  one  they  learned  the  birds  and  beasts 
of  their  home  woods,  and  then  as  they  were  able 
to  go  abroad  with  their  parents  they  learned 
new  animals.  They  were  beginning  to  think 
they  knew  the  scent  of  everything  that  moved. 
But  one  night  the  mother  took  them  to  a  field 
where  was  a  strange  black  flat  thing  on  tht 


41 


r  1. 


Ei  if 


■■<•!« 


ilJI 


The  Sprinsffield  Foz 


ground.  She  brought  them  on  purpose  to 
smell  it,  but  at  the  first  whiff  their  every  hair 
stood  on  end,  they  trembled,  they  knew  not 
why— Ht  seemed  to  tingle  through  their  blood 
and  fill  them  with  instinctive  hate  and  fear. 
And  when  she  saw  its  full  effect  she  told  them— 
"  That  is  man-scent." 


Ill 


Meanwhile  the  hens  continued  to  disappear, 
I  had  not  betrayed  the  den  of  cubs.  Indeed, 
I  thought  a  good  deal  more  of  the  Uttle  rascals 
than  I  did  of  the  hens ;  but  uncle  was  dread- 
fully  wrought  up  and  made  most  disparaging 
remarks  about  my  woodcraft.  To  please  him 
I  one  day  took  the  hound  across  to  the  woods 
and  seating  myself  on  a  stump  on  the  open  hill- 
side, I  bade  the  dog  go  on.  Within  three  min- 
utes he  sang  out  in  the  tongue  all  hunters  know 
so  well,  *'  Fox  I  fox  I  fox  1  straight  away  down 
the  valley." 

After  awhile  I  heard  them  coming  back. 
Tliere  I  saw  the  fox — Scarface — ^loping  lightly 
the  river-bottom  to  the  stream.     In  hr 

208 


shoi 

sight. 

ribs, 

dog 

was 

rocke 

hind 


The  Spring^tieid  Fox 


xe  to 
7  hair 
!W  not 
blood 
d  fear, 
them— 


sappeair 
Indeed, 
ie  rascals 
IS  dread- 
iparaging 
ease  him 
le  woods 
)pen  hill- 
iree  min- 
teis  know 
ray  down 

ng  back, 
ng  lightly 
In  hr 


irent  and  trotted  along  in  the  shallow  watev 
near  the  margin  for  two  hundred  yards,  then 
came  out  straight  toward  me.  Though  in  full 
view,  he  saw  me  not  but  came  up  the  hill 
watching  over  his  shoulder  for  the  hotmd. 
Within  ten  feet  of  me  he  turned  and  sat  with 
his  back  to  me  while  he  craned  his  neck  and 
showed  an  eager  interest  in  the  doings  of  the 
hound.  Ranger  came  bawling  along  the  trail 
till  he  came  to  the  running  water,  the  killer  of 
scent,  and  here  he  was  puzzled  ;  but  there  was 
only  one  thing  to  do ;  that  was  by  going  up 
and  down  both  banks  find  where  the  fox  had 
left  the  river. 

The  fox  before  me  shifted  his  position  a  little 
to  get  a  better  view  and  watched  with  a  most 
human  interest  all  the  circling  of  the  hound. 
He  was  so  close  that  I  saw  the  hair  of  his 
shoulder  bristle  a  little  when  the  dog  came  in 
sight.  I  could  see  the  jumping  of  his  heart  on  his 
ribs,  and  the  gleam  of  his  yellow  eye.  When  the 
dog  was  wholly  baulked  by  the  water  trick,  it 
was  comical  to  see: — he  could  not  sit  still,  but 
rocked  up  and  down  in  glee,  and  reared  on  his 
Hind  feet  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  slow-plod- 

209 


:!i 


^t.i 


!    Hi 


The  Springffleld  Fox 

ding  hound.  With  mouth  opened  nearly  tc 
his  ears,  though  not  at  all  winded,  he  panted 
noisily  for  a  moment,  or  rather  he  laughed 
gleefully,  just  as  a  dog  laughs  by  grinning  and 
panting. 

Old  Scarface  wriggled  in  huge  enjoyment  as 
the  hound  puzzled  over  the  trail  so  long  that 
when  he  did  find  it,  it  was  so  stale  he  could 
barely  follow  it,  and  did  not  feel  justified  in 
tonguing  on  it  at  all. 

As  soon  as  the  hound  was  working  up  the 
hill,  the  fox  quietly  went  into  the  woods.  I 
had  been  sitting  in  plain  view  only  ten  feet 
away,  but  I  had  the  wind  and  kept  still  and 
the  tc  never  knew  that  his  life  had  for  twenty 
minutes  been  in  the  power  of  the  foe  he  most 
feared.  Ranger  also  would  have  passed  me  as 
near  as  the  fox,  but  I  spoke  to  him,  and  with  a 
little  nervous  start  he  quit  the  trail  and  looking 
sheepish  lay  down  by  my  feet. 

This  little  comedy  was  played  with  variations 
for  several  days,  but  it  was  all  in  plain  view 
from  the  house  across  the  river.     My  uncle,  im- 
patient at  the  daily  loss  of  hens,  went  out  him 
•elf,  sat  on  the  open  knoll,  and  when  old  Scar 

2IO 


;i     I 


t 


Dearly  tc 
xt  panted 
i  laughed 
ining  and 

oyment  as 

» long  that 

he  could 

ustiiied  in 

ing  up  the 
woods.  I 
ly  ten  feet 
>t  still  and 

for  twenty 
be  he  most 
Lssed  me  as 

and  with  a 
and  looking 

;h  variations 
[1  plain  view 
[y  uncle,  im- 
5nt  out  him 
en  old  Scar 


The  Springtield  Fox 

face  trotted  to  his  lookout  to  watch  the  dull 
hound  on  the  river  flat  l>elo\v,  my  uncle  remorse- 
lessly shot  him  in  the  back,  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  was  grinning  over  sv  new  tiiumph. 

IV 

But  still  the  hens  were  disappearing.  My 
uncle  was  wrathy.  He  determined  to  conduct 
the  war  himself,  and  sowed  the  woods  with 
poison  baits,  trusting  to  luck  that  our  own  dogs 
would  not  get  them.  He  indulged  in  contemptu- 
ous remarks  on  my  by-gone  woodcraft,  and  went 
out  evenings  with  a  gun  and  the  two  dogs,  tosee 
what  he  could  destroy. 

Vix  knew  right  well  what  a  poisoned  bait  was  j 
she  passed  them  by  or  else  treated  them  with 
active  contempt,  but  one  she  dropped  down 
the  hole  of  an  old  enemy,  a  skunk,  who  was 
never  afterward  seen.  Formerly  old  Scarface 
was  always  ready  to  take  charge  of  the  dogs, 
and  keep  them  out  of  mischief.  But  now  that 
Vix  had  the  whole  burden  of  the  brood,  she 
could  no  longer  spend  time  in  breaking  every 
track  to  the  den,  and  was  not  always  at  hand 

211 


^ 


iuiS 


t  If  ■ 


fhe  Sprfngffield  Fo> 


f  (• 


CO  meet  an  J  mislead  the  foes  that  might  be  com- 
ing too  near. 

The  end  is  easily  foreseen.  Ranger  followed 
a  hot  trail  to  the  den,  and  Spot,  the  fox-terrier, 
announced  that  the  familv  was  at  home,  and 
then  did  his  best  to  go  in  after  them. 

The  whole  secret  was  now  out,  and  the  whole 
family  doomed.  The  hired  man  came  around 
with  pick  and  shovel  to  dig  them  out,  while  we 
and  the  dogs  stood  by.  Old  Vix  soon  showed 
herself  in  the  near  woods,  and  led  the  dogs 
away  off  down  the  river,  where  she  shook  them 
off  when  she  thought  proper,  by  the  simple  de- 
vice of  springing  en  a  sheep's  back.  The 
frightened  animal  ran  for  several  hundred  yards, 
then  Vix  got  off,  knowing  that  there  was  now 
a  hopeless  gap  in  the  scent,  and  returned  to  the 
den.  But  the  dogs,  baffled  by  the  break  in  the 
trail,  soon  did  the  same,  to  find  Vix  hanging 
about  in  despair,  vainly  trying  to  decoy  us  away 
from  her  treasures. 

Meanwhile  Paddy  plied  both  pick  and  shovel 
with  vigor  and  effect.  The  yellow,  gravelly  sand 
was  heaping  on  both  sides,  and  the  shoulders  of 
the  sturdy  digger  were  sinking  below  the  level. 

212 


bac 
brc 
bet 

hot! 


rli: 


I'he  Spring:field  Fox 


t  be  com- 

followed 
>x-terrier, 
lome,  and 

the  whole 
ne  around 
,  while  we 
on  showed 
the  dogs 
hook  them 
simple  de- 
)ack.     The 
dred  yards, 
re  was  now 
rned  to  the 
)reak  in  the 
ix  hanging 
coy  us  away 

:  and  shovel 
jravelly  sand 
shoulders  of 
)w  the  level. 


After  an  hour's  digging,  enlivened  by  frantir 
rushes  of  the  dogs  after  the  old  fox,  who  hovered 
near  in  the  woods,  Pat  called  : 

•'  Here  they  are,  sor  !  " 

It  was  the  den  at  the  end  of  the  burrow,  and 
cowering  as  far  back  as  they  could,  were  the 
four  little  woolly  cubs. 

Before  I  could  interfere,  i  murderous  blow 
from  the  shovel,  and  a  sudden  rush  for  the  fierce 
little  terrier,  ended  the  lives  of  three.  The 
fourth  and  smaller*  was  barely  saved  by  holding 
him  by  his  tail  high  out  of  reach  of  'he  excited 

<?0,GCS. 

He  gave  'ne  short  squeal,  and  his  poor 
mother  came  it  the  cry,  and  circled  so  near  that 
she  would  have  been  shot  but  for  the  accidental 
protection  of  the  dogs,  who  somehow  always 
seemed  to  get  between,  and  whom  she  once 
more  led  away  on  a  fruitless  chase. 

The  little  one  saved  alive  was  dropped  .nto  a 
bag,  where  he  lay  quite  still.  His  unfoitunate 
brothers  were  thrown  back  in»  >  their  nursery 
bed,  and  buried  under  a  fewsh'  /elfuls  of  earth. 

We  guilty  ones  then  went  back  into  th"* 
house,  and  the  little  fox  was    oon  chained  iv 


!  %\ 


!■   1! 
1    .1 


213 


'^C 


The  Spring^field  Fox 

the  yard.  No  one  knew  just  ivhy  he  was  kept 
alive,  but  in  all  a  change  of  feeling  had  set 
in,  and  the  idea  of  killing  him  was  without  a 
supporter. 

He  was  a  pretty  little  fellow,  like  a  cross  be- 
tween &  fox  and  a  lamb.  His  wooily  visage 
and  form  were  strangely  lamb-like  and  inno- 
cent, but  one  could  find  in  his  yellow  eyes  a 
gleam  of  cunning  and  savageness  as  unlamb-like 
as  it  possibly  could  be„ 

As  long  as  anyone  was  near  he  crouched 
sullen  and  cowed  in  his  shelter-box,  and  it  was 
a  full  houi  after  being  left  alone  before  he  vent- 
ured to  look  out. 

My  window  now  took  the  place  of  the  hol- 
low basswood.  A  number  of  hens  of  the  breed 
he  knew  so  well  were  about  the  cub  in  the 
the  yard.  Late  that  afternoon  as  they  strayed 
near  the  captive  there  was  a  sudden  rattle  of 
the  chain,  and  the  youngster  dashed  at  the  near- 
est one  and  would  have  caught  him  but  for  the 
chain  which  brought  him  up  with  a  jerk.  He 
got  on  his  feet  and  slunk  back  to  his  box,  and 
though  he  afterward  made  several  rushes  he  so 
gauged  his  leap  as  to  win  or  fail  within  the 

314 


\ 


The  Springffleld  Fox 


was  kept 

had  set 

without  a 


,  cross  be- 
lly visage 
ind  inno- 
)w  eyes  a 
ilamb-like 

crouched 
and  it  was 
e  he  vent- 

f  the  hol- 

the  breed 

;ub  in  the 

ley  strayed 

;n  rattle  of 

at  the  near- 

but  for  the 

jerk.     He 

is  box,  and 

ishes  he  so 

within  the 


length  of  the  chain  and  never  again  was  brought 
up  by  its  cruel  jerk. 

As  night  came  down  the  little  fellow  became 
very  uneasy,  sneaking  out  of  his  box,  but  going 
back  at  each  slight  alarm,  tugging  at  his  chain, 
or  at  times  biting  it  in  fury  while  he  held  it 
down  with  his  fore  paws.  Suddenly  he  paused 
as  though  listening,  then  raising  his  little  black 
nose  he  poured  out  a  short  quaverin  4  cry. 

Once  or  twice  this  was  repeated,  the  time 
between  being  occupied  in  worrying  the  chain 
and  running  about.  Then  an  answer  came. 
The  far-away  Yap-yurrr  of  the  old  fox.  A 
few  minutes  later  a  shadowy  form  appeared  on 
the  wood-pile.  The  little  one  slunk  into  his 
box,  but  at  once  returned  and  ran  to  meet  his 
mother  with  all  the  gladness  that  a  fox  could 
show.  Quick  as  a  flash  she  seized  him  and 
turned  to  bear  him  away  by  the  road  she  came. 
But  the  moment  the  end  of  the  chain  was 
reached  the  cub  was  rudely  jerked  from  the  old 
one's  mouth,  and  she,  scared  by  the  opening  of 
a  window,  fled  over  the  svood-pile. 

An  hour  afterward  the  cub  had  ceased  to  run 
^bout  or  cry.     I  peeped  out,  and  by  the  light 

815 


Aft 


'" 


11!^ 


II 


The  Springfiielcl  Fox 

of  the  moon  saw  the  form  of  the  mother  at  full 
length  on  the  ground  by  the  little  one,  gnaw- 
ing at  something — the  clank  of  iron  told  what, 
it  was  that  cruel  chain.  And  Tip,  the  little 
one,  meanwhile  wa>  helping  himself  to  a  warm 
drink. 

On  my  going  out  she  fled  into  the  dark 
woods,  but  there  by  the  shelter-box  were  two 
little  mice,  bloody  and  still  warm,  food  for  the 
cub  brought  by  the  devoted  mother.  And  in 
the  morning  I  found  the  chain  was  very  bright 
for  a  foot  or  two  next  the  little  one's  collar. 

On  walking  across  the  woods  to  the  ruined 
den,  I  again  found  signs  of  Vixen.  The  pool 
heart-broken  mother  had  come  and  dug  out  the 
bedraggled  bodies  of  her  little  ones. 

There  lay  the  three  little  baby  foxes  all 
licked  smooth  now,  and  by  them  were  two  of 
our  hens  fresh  killed.  The  newly  heaved  earth 
was  printed  all  over  with  tell-tale  signs — signs 
that  told  me  that  here  by  the  side  of  her  dead 
she  had  watched  like  Rizpah.  Here  she  had 
brought  their  usu.-xl  meal,  the  spoil  of  her  night- 
ly hunt.  Here  she  had  stretched  herself  be- 
pide  them  and  vainly  offered  them  their  natural 

216 


ler  at  full 
ne,  gnaw- 
:old  what, 
the  little 
io  a  warm 

the  dark 

were  two 

od  for  the 

And  in 

ery  bright 

collar, 
the  ruined 

The  poo! 
ug  out  the 

foxes  all 
ere  two  of 
aved  earth 
gns — signs 
f  her  dead 
e  she  had 
her  night- 
herself  be- 
eir  natural 


\\f 


L:i;^i 


fell      ■ 

Jfi: 
r  J'! -if 


Ili^l 


'^\       *><-_  ^^^  .i^ 


There  she  had  lain,  and  mourned. 


wc 
yea 


~  <9^ 


The  Springfield  Fox 

drink  and  yearned  to  feed  and  warm  them  as  oi 
old ;  but  only  stiff  little  bodies  under  their  sou 
wool  she  found,  and  little  cold  noses  still  ana 
unresponsive. 

A  deep  impress  of  elbows,  breast,  and  hock> 
showed  where  she  had  laid  in  silent  grief  and 
watched  them  for  long  and  mourned  as  a  wild 
mother  can  mourn  for  its  young.  But  from 
that  time  she  came  no  more  to  the  ruined  den, 
for  now  she  surely  knew  that  her  little  ones 
were  dead. 


Tip  the  captive,  the  weakling  of  the  brood, 
was  now  the  heir  to  all  her  love.  The  dogs 
were  loosed  to  guard  the  hens.  The  hired 
man  had  orders  to  shoot  the  old  fox  on  sight — 
so  had  I,  but  was  resolved  never  to  see  her. 
Chicken-heads,  that  a  fox  loves  and  a  dog  will 
not  touch,  had  been  poisoned  and  scattered 
through  the  woods ;  and  the  only  way  to  the 
yard  where  Tip  was  tied,  was  by  climbing  the 
wood-pile  after  braving  all  other  dangers.  And 
yet  each  night  old  Vix  was  there  to  nurse  her 

219 


»!*1 


m 


The  Springfield  Fox 


i 


OP  by  and  bring  it  fresh«killed  hens  and  game 
Ayain  and  again  I  saw  her,  altliough  she  came 
now  without  awaiting  the  querulous  cry  of  the 
captive. 

Tne  second  night  of  the  captivity  I  heard 
the  rattle  of  the  chain,  and  then  made  out  that 
the  old  fox  was  chert,  hard  at  work  digging  a 
hole  by  the  little  one's  kennel.  When  it  was 
deep  enough  to  half  bury  her,  she  gathered  into 
it  all  the  slack  of  the  chain,  and  filled  it  again 
with  earth.  Then  in  triumph  thinking  she  had 
gotten  rid  of  the  chain,  she  seized  little  Tip  by 
the  neck  and  turned  to  dash  off  up  the  wood- 
pile, but  alas »  only  to  have  him  jerked  roughly 
from  her  grasp. 

Poor  little  fellow,  he  whimpered  sadly  as  he 
crawled  into  his  box.  After  half  an  hour  there 
was  a  great  outcry  among  the  dogs,  and  by  their 
straight-away  tonguing  through  the  far  woods 
I  knew  they  were  chasing  Vix.  Away  up  north 
they  went  in  the  direction  of  the  railway  and 
their  noise  faded  from  hearing.  Next  morning 
the  hound  had  not  come  back.  We  soon  knew 
whyv  Foxes  long  ago  learned  what  a  railroad 
is ;  they  soon  devised  several  ways  of  turning  it 

220 


The  Springffield  Fox 


nd  game 
she  came 
ry  of  the 

I  heard 
;  out  that 
iigging  3 
len  it  was 
lered  into 
I  it  again 
g  she  had 
:le  Tip  by 
the  wood- 
d  roughly 

adly  as  he 
[lour  there 
)d  by  their 
far  woods 
y  lip  north 
lilway  and 
t  morning 
soon  knew 
a  railroad 
■  turning  it 


iO  account.  One  way  is  when  hunted  to  walk 
the  rails  for  a  long  distance  just  before  a  train 
comes.  The  scent,  always  poor  on  iron,  is 
destroyed  by  the  train  and  there  is  always  a 
chance  of  hounds  being  killed  by  the  engine. 
But  another  way  more  sure,  but  harder  to  play, 
is  to  lead  the  hounds  straight  to  a  high  trestle 
just  ahead  of  the  train,  so  that  the  engine  over- 
takes them  on  it  and  they  are  surely  dashed 
to  destruction. 

This  trick  was  skilfully  played,  and  down 
below  we  found  the  mangled  remains  of  old 
Ranger  and  learned  that  Vix  was  already 
wreaking  her  revenge. 

That  same  night  she  returned  to  the  yard 
before  Spot's  weary  limbs  could  bring  him 
back  and  killed  another  hen  and  brought  it  to 
Tip,  and  stretched  her  panting  length  beside 
him  that  he  might  quench  his  thirst.  For  she 
seemed  to  think  he  had  n-^  food  but  what  she 
brought. 

It  was  that  hen  that  betrayed  to  my  uncle 
the  nightly  visits. 

My  own  sympathies  were  all  turning  to  Vix, 
and  I  would  have  no  hand  in  planning  furthsr 

221 


■ '  il 
;■<■.! 

il 


I!'  1 


Ik! 


!•  n. 


The  Springffield  Fox 

murders.    i>exc  night  my  uncle  himself  watched, 

gun  in  hand,  for  an  hour.    Then  when  it  became 

cold  and  the  moon  clouded  over  he  remembered 

other  important   business  elsewhere,   and    left 

Paddy  in  his  place. 

^•r^  But  Paddy  was  "  onaisy  "  as  the  stilmess  and 

"^  ,JL'^-''''  anxiety  of  watching  worked  on  his  nerves.    And 

*— ••  li^  the  loud  bang  !  bang !  an  hour  later  left  us  sure 

only  that  powder  had  been  burned. 

^  In  the  morning  we  found  Vix  had  not  failed 

her  young  one.     Again  next  night  found  my 

uncle  on  guard,  for  another  hen  had  been  taken. 

Soon  after  dark  a  single  shot  was  heard,  but  Vix 

dropped  the  game  she  was  bringing  and  escaped. 

Another  attempt  made  that  night  called  forth 

another  gun-shot.     Yet  next  day  it  was  seen  by 

the  brightness  of  the  chain  that  she  had  come 

again  and  vainly  tried  for  hours  to  cut  that 

hateful  bond. 

Such  courage  and  stanch  fidelity  were  bound 
to  win  respect,  if  not  toleration.  At  any  rate, 
there  was  no  gunner  in  wait  next  night,  when 
all  was  still.  Could  it  be  of  any  use  ?  Driven 
off  thrice  with  gun-shots,  would  she  make  an- 
other try  to  feed  or  free  her  captive  young  one  ? 

222 


i  I 


The  Spring^field  Fox 


atched, 
became 
mbered 
nd    left 

less  and 
s.  And 
t  us  sure 

ot  failed 
und  my 
n  taken. 
,  but  Vix 
escaped, 
led  forth 
i  seen  by 
ad  come 
cut  that 

re  bound 
any  rate, 
ht,  when 
Driven 
make  an- 
ung  one  ? 


Would  she?  Hers  was  a  mother's  love. 
There  was  but  one  to  watch  them  this  time,  the 
fourth  night,  when  the  quavering  whine  of  the 
Uule  one  was  followed  by  that  shadowy  form 
above  the  wood-pile. 

-  But  carrying  no  fowl  or  food  that  could  be 
seen.  Had  the  keen  huntress  failed  at  last? 
Had  she  no  head  of  game  for  this  her  only 
charge,  or  had  she  learned  to  trust  his  captors 
for  his  food  ? 

No,  far  from  all  this.  The  wild-wood  mother's 
heart  and  hate  were  true.  Her  only  thought 
had  been  to  set  him  free.  All  means  she  knew 
she  tried,  and  every  danger  braved  to  tend  him 
well  and  help  him  to  be  free.  But  all  had 
failed. 

Like  a  shadow  she  came  and  in  a  moment 
was  gone,  and  Tip  seized  on  something  dropped, 
and  crunched  and  chewed  with  relish  what  she 
brought.  But  even  as  he  ate,  a  knife-like  pang 
shot  through  and  a  scream  of  pain  escaped  him. 
Then  there  was  a  momentary  struggle  and  the 
little  fox  was  dead. 

The  mother's  love  was  strong  in  Vix,  but  a 
higher  thought  was  stronger.     She  knew  right 

223 


1^1 


The  Springfield  Fox 

well  the  poison's  power  j  she  knew  the  poison 
bait,  and  would  have  taught  him  had  he  lived 
to  know  and  shun  it  too.  But  now  at  last 
wuen  she  must  choose  for  him  a  wretched  pris- 
oner's life  or  sudden  death,  she  quenched  the 
mother  in  her  breast  and  freed  him  by  the  one 
temaininp  door. 


It  is  when  the  snow  is  on  the  ground  that 
we  take  the  census  of  the  woods,  and  when  the 
winter  came  it  told  me  that  Vix  no  longer 
roamed  the  woods  of  Erindale.  Where  she 
went  it  never  told,  but  only  this,  that  she  was 
gone.  * 

Gone,  perhaps,  to  some  other  far-off  haunt 
to  leave  behind  the  sad  remembrance  of  her 
murdered  little  ones  and  mate.  Or  gone,  may 
be,  deliberately,  from  the  scene  of  ^  sorrowful 
life,  as  many  a  wild-wood  mother  nao  ^  by 

the  means  that  she  herself  had  used  to  free  ner 
young  one,  the  last  of  all  her  t  '^^. 


!i 


Vix. 


The   Pacing  Mustang 


I 


5i5 


CALONE  threw  down  hk 
saddle  on  the  dusty  ground, 
turned  his  horses  loose,  and 
went  clanking  into  the  ranch- 
house. 

"Nigh  about  chuck  time?" 
he  asked. 

"  Seventeen  minutes,"  said 
the  cook  glancing  at  the  Waterbury,  with  the 
air  of  a  train- sf  '•,  though  this  show  of  pre- 
cision had  never  yet  been  justified  by  events. 

"How's  things  on  the  Perico?"  said  Jo's 
pard. 

"Hotter'n  hinges,"  said  Jo.    "Cattle  seem 
O.  K.;  lots  of  calves." 


329 


li 


The  Pacing;  Mustang; 


!  ■ 


"  I  seen  that  bunch  o*  mustangs  that  waters 
at  Antelope  Springs;  couple  o'  colts  along; 
one  little  dark  one,  a  fair  dandy  j  a  born  pacer. 
I  run  them  a  mile  or  two,  and  he  led  the  bunch, 
an'  never  broke  his  pace.  Cut  loose,  an' 
pushed  them  jest  for  fun,  an'  darned  if  I  could 
make  him  break." 

**  You  didn't  have  no  reefreshments  along  ?  " 
said  Scarth,  incredulously. 

**  That's  all  right,  Scarth.  You  had  to  crawl 
on  our  last  bet,  an'  you'll  get  another  chance 
soon  as  you're  man  enough.*' 

*♦  Chuck,"  shouted  the  oook,  and  the  subject 
was  dropped.  Next  day  the  scene  of  the  round- 
up was  changed,  and  the  mustangs  were  forgot^ 
ten. 

A  year  later  the  same  corner  of  New  Mexico 
was  work.^  over  by  the  roundup,  and  again 
the  mustang  bunch  was  seen.  The  dark  colt 
was  now  a  black  yearling,  with  thin,  clean  legs 
and  glossy  flanks ;  and  more  than  one  of  the 
boys  saw  with  his  own  eyes  this  oddity — the 
mustang  was  a  born  pacer. 

Jo  was  along,  and  the  idea  now  struck  him 
*:»»f  that  colt  was  worth  having.     To  %a  East 

230 


The  Pacing  Mustang 


t  watei^ 
along  ; 

n  pacer. 

s bunch, 

3se,  an' 
I  could 

ilong?" 

to  crawl 
r  chance 

e  subject 
le  round* 
e  forgot' 

V  Mexico 
nd  again 
dark  colt 
:lean  legs 
le  of  the 
iity— the 

:ruck  him 
I  ui  East 


irner  this  thought  may  not  seem  startling  at 
original,  but  in  the  West,  where  an  unbroken 
horse  is  worth  $$,  and  where  an  ordinary  saddle- 
lorse  is  worth  $i$  or  $20,  the  idea  of  a  wild 
mustang  being  desirable  property  does  not  oc- 
cur to  the  average  cowboy,  for  mustangs  are 
nard  to  catch,  and  when  caught  are  merely  wild 
animal  prisoners,  perfectly  useless  and  untama- 
ble to  the  last.  Not  a  few  of  the  cattle-owners 
Qiake  a  point  of  shooting  all  mustangs  at  sight, 
for  they  are  not  only  useless  cumberers  of  the 
feeding-grounds,  but  commonly  lead  away  do 
mestic  horses,  which  soon  take  to  the  wild  life 
ana  arc  thenceforth  lost. 

V/ild  Jo  Calone  knew  a '  bronk  right  down  to 
subsoil.*  **  I  never  seen  a  white  that  wasn't 
soft,  nor  a  chestnut  that  wasn't  nervous,  nor  a 
bay  that  wasn't  good  if  broke  right,  nor  a 
black  that  wasn't  hard  as  nails,  an'  full  of  the 
old  Harry.  All  a  black  bronk  wants  is  claws 
to  be  wus'n  Daniel's  hull  outfit  of  lions.'* 

Since  then  a  mustang  is  worthless  vermin, 
4nd  a  black  mustang  ten  times  worse  than  worth- 
ess,  Jo's  pard  '*  didn't  see  no  sense  in  Jo's 
wantin'  to  corral  the  yearling/'  as  he  now 

331 


The  Pacing;  Mostangf 


seemed  intent  on  doing.  Bv<  Jo  got  no  chanot- 
to  try  that  year. 

He  was  only  a  cow-puncher  on  ^25  a  months 
and  tied  to  hours.  Like  most  of  the  boys,  he 
always  looked  forward  to  having  a  ranch  and 
an  outfit  of  his  own.  His  brand,  the  hogpen, 
of  sinister  suggestion,  was  already  registered  at 
Santa  F6,  but  of  horned  stock  it  was  borne  by 
a  single  oid  cow,  so  as  to  give  him  a  legal  right 
to  put  his  brand  on  any  maverick  (or  unbranded 
animal)  he  migh    ohance  to  find. 

Yet  each  fall,  when  paid  off,  Jo  could  not  re- 
sist the  temptation  to  go  to  town  with  the  boys 
and  have  a  good  time  '  while  the  stuff  held  out. ' 
So  that  his  property  consisted  of  little  more 
than  his  saddle,  his  bed,  and  his  old  cow.  He 
kept  on  hoping  to  make  a  strike  that  would 
leave  him  well  fixed  with  a  fair  start,  and  when 
the  thought  came  that  the  Black  Mustang  was 
his  mascot,  he  only  needed  a  chance  iO  '  make 
the  try.' 

The  roundup  circled  down  to  the  Canadian 
River,  and  back  in  the  fall  by  the  Don  Carlos 
Hills,  and  Jo  saw  no  more  of  the  Facer,  though 
he  heard  of  him  from  many  quarters,  for  the 

232 


■M 


The  Pacinsf  Mustang 


» chanor 

I  month, 
boys,  he 
inch  and 
hogpen, 
stered  at 
borne  by 
egal  right 
inbranded 

lid  not  re- 
w  the  boys 
held  out.' 
little  more 
cow.  He 
:hat  would 
and  when 
uBtang  was 
t  io  •  make 

Canadian 
Don  Carlos 
cer,  though 
CIS,  for  the 


colt,  now  a  vigorous,  young  horse,  rising  three, 
was  beginning  to  be  talked  of. 

Antelope  Springs  is  in  the  middle  of  a  great 
.'evel  plain.  When  the  water  is  high  it  spreads 
into  a  small  lake  with  a  belt  of  sedge  around  it ; 
when  it  is  low  there  is  a  wide  flat  of  black  mud, 
glistening  white  with  alkali  in  places,  and  the 
spring  a  water-hole  in  the  middle.  It  has  no 
flow  or  outlet  and  yet  is  fairly  good  water,  the 
only  drinking-place  for  many  miles. 

This  flat,  or  prairie  as  it  would  be  called  far- 
ther north,  was  the  favorite  feeding-ground  of 
the  Black  Stallion,  but  it  was  also  the  pasture 
of  many  herds  of  range  horses  and  cattle. 
Chiefly  interested  was  the  *  L  cross  F'  outfit. 
Foster,  the  manager  and  part  owner,  was  a  man 
of  enterprise.  He  beheved  it  would  pay  to 
handle  a  better  class  of  cattle  and  horses  on 
the  range,  and  one  of  his  ventures  was  ten  half- 
blooded  mares,  tall,  clean-limbed,  deer-eyed 
creatures,  that  made  the  scrub  cow-ponies  look 
like  pitiful  starvelings  of  some  degwierate  and 
quite  different  species. 

One  of  these  was  kept  stabled  for  use,  but 
the  nine,  after  the  weaning  of  their  colts, 

233 


Lf 


111 


(I. 


The  Pacing:  Mustangf 

oumaged  to  get  away  and  wandered  off  on  the 
Tange. 

A  horse  has  a  fine  instinct  for  the  road  to  the 
best  feed,  and  the  nine  mares  drifted,  of  course, 
to  the  prairie  of  Antelope  Springs,  twenty  miles 
to  the  southward.  And  when,  later  that  sum- 
mer Foster  went  to  round  them  up,  he  found 
the  nine  indeed,  but  with  them  and  guarding 
them  with  an  air  of  more  than  mere  comrade- 
ship was  a  coal-black  stallion,  prancing  around 
and  rounding  up  the  bunch  like  an  expert,  his 
jet-black  coat  a  vivid  contrast  to  the  golden 
hides  of  his  harem. 

The  mares  were  gentle,  and  would  have  been 
easily  driven  homeward  but  for  a  new  and  un- 
expected thing.  The  Black  Stallion  became 
greatly  aroused.  He  seemed  to  inspire  them  too 
with  his  wildness,  and  flying  this  way  and  that 
way  drove  the  whole  band  at  full  gallop  where 
he  would.  Away  they  went,  and  the  little  cow- 
ponies  that  carried  the  men  were  easily  left  be- 
hind. 

This  was  maddening,  and  both  men  at  last 
drew  their  guns  and  sought  a  chance  to  drop 
that  'blasted  stallion.'     But  no  chance  came 


ble 


234 


The  Pacing  Mtistang; 


on  the 

i  to  the 
■  course, 
ty  miles 
lat  sum- 
le  found 
Tuarding 
;omrade- 
r  around 
tpert,  his 
B  golden 

lave  been 
V  and  un- 
1   became 
;  them  too 
f  and  that 
lop  where 
ittle  cow- 
ly  left  be- 

len  at  last 
ce  to  drop 
mce  came 


that  was  not  9  to  i  of  dropping  one  of  the 
mares.  A  long  day  of  manoeuvring  made  no 
change.  The  Pacer,  for  it  was  he,  kept  his 
family  together  and  disappeared  among  the 
southern  sandhills.  The  cattlemen  on  their 
jaded  ponies  set  out  for  home  with  the  poor  sat- 
isfaction of  vowing  vengeance  for  their  failure 
on  the  superb  cause  of  it. 

One  of  the  most  aggravating  parts  of  it  was 
that  one  or  two  experiences  like  this  would 
surely  make  the  mares  as  wild  as  the  Mustang, 
and  there  seemed  to  be  no  way  of  saving  them 
from  it. 

Scientists  differ  on  the  power  of  beauty  and 
prowess  to  attract  female  admiration  among  the 
lower  animals,  but  whether  it  is  admiration  or 
the  prowess  itself,  it  is  certain  that  a  wild  ani' 
mal  of  uncommon  gifts  soon  wins  a  large  follow* 
ing  from  the  harems  of  his  rivals.  And  the 
great  Black  Horse,  with  his  inky  mane  and  tail 
and  his  green-lighted  eyes,  ranged  through  all 
that  region  and  added  to  his  following  from 
many  bands  till  not  less  than  a  score  of  mares 
were  in  his  *  bunch.'  Most  were  merely  hum- 
ble cow-ponies  turned  out  to  -ange,  but  the  nine 

235 


IP 


The  Pacing  Mustang: 

great  mares  were  there,  a  striking  group  by 
themselves.  According  to  all  reports,  this  bunch 
was  always  kept  rounded  up  and  guarded  with 
such  energy  and  jealousy  that  a  mare,  once  in  it, 
was  a  lost  animal  so  far  as  man  was  concerned, 
and  the  ranchmen  realized  soon  that  they  had 
gotten  on  the  range  a  mustang  that  was  doing 
them  more  harm  than  all  other  sources  of  loss 
put  together. 


n 


It  was  December,  1893.  I  was  new  in  the 
country,  and  was  setting  out  from  the  ranch* 
house  on  the  Pinavetitos,  to  go  with  a  wagon  to 
the  Canadian  River.  As  I  was  leaving,  Foster 
finished  his  remark  by :  "  And  if  you  get  a 
chance  to  draw  a  bead  on  that  accursed  mus- 
tang, don't  fail  to  drop  him  in  his  tracks." 

This  was  the  first  I  had  heard  of  him,  and  as 
I  rode  along  I  gathered  from  Burns,  my  guide, 
the  history  that  has  been  given.  I  was  full  of 
curiosity  to  see  the  famous  three-year-old,  and 

236 


Ih    ! 


Toup  by 

lis  bunch 
(led  with 
nee  in  it, 
)ncerned, 
they  had 
vas  doing 
:es  of  loss 


i35g3B?€>«>-^** 


lew  in  the 
he  ranch- 
wagon  to 
Foster 
you  get  a 
used  mus- 
acks." 


ng, 


urn,  and  as 
my  guide, 
was  full  of 
ir-old,  and 


The  Pacing;  Mustang; 

was  not  a  little  disappointed  on  the  second  day 
when  we  came  to  the  prairie  on  Anteiopa 
Springs  and  saw  no  sign  of  the  Pacer  or  his  band. 
But  on  the  next  day,  as  we  crossed  the  AW 
mosa  Arroyo,  and  were  rising  to  the  rolling 
prairie  again,  Jack  Burns,  who  was  riding  on 
ahead,  suddenly  dropped  flat  on  the  neck  of  his 
horse,  and  swung  back  to  me  in  the  wagon, 
saying : 

"Get  out  your  rifle,  here's  that stallion.* 

I  seized  my  rifle,  and  hurried  forward  to  9 
view  o"er  the  prairie  ridge.  In  the  hollow  be- 
low was  a  band  of  horses,  and  there  at  one  end 
was  the  Great  Black  Mustang.  He  had  heard 
some  sound  of  our  approach,  and  was  not  un- 
suspicious of  danger.  There  he  stood  with 
head  and  tail  erect,  and  nostrils  wide,  an  image 
of  horse  perfection  and  beauty,  as  noble  an 
animal  as  ever  ranged  the  plains,  and  the  mere 
notion  of  turning  ihat  magnificent  cre.iture  into 
i  mass  of  rarrion  was  horrible.  In  spite  oi' 
jfack's  exhortation  to  'shoot  quick,'  I  delayed,i 
and  threw  open  the  breach,  whereupon  he,  al- 
ways hot  and  hasty,  swore  at  my  slowness, 
growled,  *  Gi'  me  that  gun,'  and  as  he  seized 


Sif 
'if 


)     I 


.-.">i"i3 


The  Paclngf  Mustangs 


i 


II,    . 

f'l- 


it  I  turned  the  muzzle  up,  and  accideniaify  tb 
gun  went  off. 

Instantly  the  herd  below  was  all  alarm,  the 
great  black  leader  snorted  and  neighed  and 
dashed  about.  And  the  mares  bunched,  and 
away  all  went  in  a  rumble  of  hoofs,  and  a  cloud 
of  dust. 

The  Stallion  careered  now  on  this  side,  now 
on  that,  and  kept  his  eye  on  all  and  led  and 
drove  them  far  away.  As  long  as  I  could 
see  I  watched,  and  never  once  did  he  break  his 
pace. 

Jack  made  Western  remarks  about  me  and  my 
gun,  as  well  as  that  mustang,  but  I  rejoiced  in 
the  Pacer's  strength  and  beauty,  and  not  for  all 
the  mares  in  the  bunch  would  I  have  harmed 
his  glossy  hide. 


U' 


m 


m 


in 

There  are  several  ways  of  capturing  wild 
horses.  One  is  by  creasing — that  is,  grazing 
the  animal's  nape  with  a  rifle-ball  so  that  he  is 
•tunned  long  enough  for  hobbling. 

"  Yes  1  I  seen  about  a  hundred  necks  broke 

338 


!  'Ml 


The  Pacing:  Mtsstang 


Ualiy  tb 

larm,  the 
hed  and 
hed,  and 
d  a  cloud 

side,  now 

1  led  and 

I   could 

break  his 

ne  and  my 
ejoiced  in 
not  for  all 
ve  harmed 


uring  wild 
is,  grazing 
I  that  he  is 

lecks  brokf' 


trying  it,  but  I  never  seen  a  mustang  creased 
yet,"  was  Wild  Jo's  critical  remark. 

Sometimes,  if  the  shape  of  the  country  abets 
it,  the  herd  can  be  driven  into  a  corral ;  some« 
times  with  extra  fine  mounts  they  can  be  run 
down,  but  by  far  the  commonest  way,  paradoxic 
cal  as  it  may  seem,  is  to  walk  them  down. 

The  fame  of  the  Stallion  that  never  was  known 
to  gallop  was  spreading.  Extraordinary  stories 
were  told  of  his  gait,  his  speed,  and  his  wind,  and 
when  old  Montgomery  of  the  '  triangle-bar '  out- 
fit came  out  plump  at  Well's  Hotel  i  n  Clayton, 
and  in  presence  of  witnesses  said  he'd  give  one 
thousand  dollars  cash  for  him  safe  in  a  box-car, 
providing  the  stories  were  true,  a  dozen  young 
cow-punchers  were  eager  to  cut  loose  and  win 
the  purse,  as  soon  as  present  engagements  were 
up.  But  Wild  Jo  had  had  his  eye  on  this 
very  deal  for  quite  a  while;  there  was  no  time  to 
lose,  so  ignoring  present  contracts  he  rustled  all 
night  to  raise  the  necessary  equipment  for  the 
game. 

By  straining  his  already  overstrained  credit, 
and  taxing  the  already  overtaxed  generosity  of 
his  friends,  he  got  together  an  expedition  con* 

239 


i 

if 


'I 

ill! 


i 


>■'• 


The  ?ac!ng:  Mustangs 

sisting  of  twenty  good  saddle-horses,  a  mesS" 
wagon,  and  a  fortnight's  stuff  for  three  men — 
himself,  his  *  pard,'  Charley,  and  the  cook. 

Then  they  set  out  from  Clayton,  with  the 
c  vowed  intention  of  walking  down  the  wonder* 
fully  swift  wild  horse.  The  third  day  they  arrived 
at  Antelope  Springs,  and  as  it  was  about  noon 
they  were  not  surprised  to  see  the  black  Pacer 
marching  down  to  drink  with  all  his  band  behind 
him.  Jo  kept  out  of  sight  until  the  wild  horses 
each  and  all  had  drunk  their  fill,  for  a  thirsty 
animal  always  travels  better  than  one  laden  with 
wav*;r. 

Jo  thf'n  rode  quietly  forward.  The  Pacer 
tcok  alaim  at  half  a  mile,  and  led  his  band  away 
out  of  sight  on  the  soapweed  mesa  to  the  south- 
east. Jo  followed  at  a  gallop  till  he  once  more 
sighted  them,  then  came  back  and  instructed 
the  cook,  who  was  also  teamster,  to  make  for 
Alamosa  Arroyo  in  the  south.  Then  away  to 
the  southeast  he  went  after  the  mustangs.  After 
*  mile  or  two  he  once  more  sighted  them,  and 
walked  his  horse  quietly  till  so  near  that  they 
again  took  alarm  and  circled  away  to  the  south. 
An  hour's  trot,  not  on  the  trail,  but  cutting 

240 


I  be  Facing:  Mustanft 


a  mess* 
;  men — 
:ook. 
with  the 
wonder* 
y  arrived 
)ut  noon 
,ck  Pacer 
d  behind 
ild  horses 
•  a  thirsty 
aden  with 

'he  Pacer 
>and  away 
the  south- 
)nce  more 
instructed 

make  for 
away  to 
gs.  After 
them,  and 
:  that  they 

the  south, 
ut  cutting 


«icross  to  where  they  ought  to  go,  brought  Jo 
again  in  close  sight.  Again  he  walked  quietly 
toward  the  herd,  and  again  there  was  the  alann 
and  flight.  And  so  they  passed  the  afternoon, 
but  circled  ever  more  and  more  to  the  south,  so 
that  when  the  sun  was  low  they  were,  as  Jo  had 
expected,  not  far  from  Alamosa  Arroyo.  The 
band  was  again  close  at  hand,  and  Jo,  after 
starting  them  off,  rode  to  the  wagon,  while  his 
pard,  who  had  been  taking  it  easy,  took  up  the 
slow  chase  on  a  fresh  horse. 

After  supper  the  wagon  moved  on  to  the  up- 
per ford  of  the  Alamosa,  as  arranged,  and  there 
camped  for  the  night. 

Meanwhile,  Charley  followed  the  herd.  They 
had  not  run  so  far  as  at  first,  for  their  pursuer 
made  no  sign  of  attack,  and  they  were  getting 
used  to  his  company.  They  were  more  easily 
found,  as  the  shadows  fell,  on  account  of  a  snow- 
white  mare  that  was  in  the  bunch.  A  young 
moon  in  the  sky  now  gave  some  help,  and  rely- 
ing on  his  horse  to  choose  the  path,  Charley  kept 
him  quietly  walking  after  the  herd,  represented 
by  that  ghost-white  mare,  till  they  were  lost  in 
the  night.     He  then  got  off,  unsaddled  and 

«4» 


m 

1  '■ ;  i'l 


M 


Hf 


The  Pacing^  Mustangf 


l^cketed  his  horse,  and  in  his  blanket  quickl> 
went  to  sleep.  <" 

At  the  first  streak  of  dawn  he  was  up,  and 
within  a  short  half-mile,  thanks  to  the  snowy 
mare,  he  found  the  band.  At  his  approach, 
the  shrill  neigh  of  the  Pacer  bugled  his 
troop  into  a  flying  squad.  But  on  the  first 
mesa  they  stopped,  and  faced  about  to  see  what 
this  persistent  follower  was,  and  what  he  wanted. 
For  a  moment  or  so  they  stood  against  the  sky 
to  gaze,  and  then  deciding  that  he  knew  him  as 
well  as  he  wished  to,  that  black  meteor  flung  his 
mane  on  the  wind,  and  led  off  at  his  tireless, 
even  swing,  while  the  mares  came  streaming 
after. 

Away  they  went,  circling  now  to  the  west, 
and  after  several  repetitions  of  this  same  play, 
flying,  following,  and  overtaking,  and  flying 
again,  they  passed,  near  noon,  the  old  Apache 
look-out,  Buffalo  Bluff.  And  here,  on  watch, 
was  Jo.  A  long  thin  column  of  smoke  told 
Charley  to  com?  to  camp,  and  with  a  flashing 
pocket-mirror  he  made  response. 

Jo,  freshly  mounted,  rode  across,  and  again 
took  up  the  chase,  and  back  came  Charley  to 

a4a 


The  Pacing:  Mustang: 


jket  quickl) 

f 

vas  up,  and 
0  the  snowy 
s  approach, 

bugled  his 
on  the  first 

to  see  what 
,t  he  wanted, 
linst  the  sky 
knew  him  as 
:eor  flung  his 

his  tireless, 
le  streaming 

to  the  west, 
s  same  play, 
;,  and  flying 
e  old  Apache 
e,  on  watch, 
F  smoke  told 
ith  a  flashing 

ss,  and  again 
ae  Charley  to 


lamp  to  eat  and  rest,  and  then  move  on  up 
stream. 

All  that  day  Jo  followed,  and  managed,  when 
It  was  needed,  that  the  herd  should  keep  the 
great  circle,  of  which  the  wagon  cut  a  small 
chord.  At  sundown  he  came  to  Verde  Crossing, 
ind  there  was  Charley  with  a  fresh  horse  and 
food,  and  Jo  went  on  in  the  same  calm,  dogged 
way.  All  the  evening  he  followed,  and  far  into 
the  night,  for  the  wild  herd  was  now  getting 
somewhat  used  to  the  presence  of  the  harmless 
strangers,  and  were  more  easily  followed;  more- 
over, they  were  tiring  out  with  perpetual  travel- 
ling. They  were  no  longer  in  the  good  grass 
country,  they  were  not  grain-fed  like  the  horses 
on  their  track,  and  above  all,  the  slight  but 
continuous  nervous  tension  was  surely  telling. 
It  spoiled  t!  nr  appetites,  but  made  them  very 
thirsty.  They  were  allowed,  and  as  far  as  pos- 
sible encouraged,  to  drink  deeply  at  every 
chance.  The  effect  of  large  quantities  of  water 
on  a  running  animal  is  well  known  ;  it  tends  to 
stiffen  the  limbs  and  spoil  the  wind.  Jo  care- 
fully guarded  his  own  horse  against  such  excess, 
and  both  he  and  his  horse  were  fresh  when  they 

24) 


m 


The  Pacing^  Mustang; 


1^    I! 


camped  that  night  on  the  trail  o'.  .he  jaded 
mustangs.  ^ 

At  dawn  he  found  them  easily  close  at  hand, 
and  though  they  ran  at  first  they  did  not  go  far 
before  they  dropped  into  a  walk.  The  battle 
seemed  nearly  won  now,  for  the  chief  difficulty 
in  the  *  walk-down  '  is  to  keep  track  of  the 
herd  the  first  two  or  three  days  when  they  are 
fresh. 

All  that  morning  Jo  kept  in  sight,  gene:  illy 
in  V  lose  sight,  of  the  band.  About  ten  o'clock, 
Charley  relieved  him  near  Jos6  Peak  and  that 
day  the  mustangs  walked  only  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  ahead  with  much  less  spirit  than  the  day 
before  and  circled  now  more  north  again.  At 
night  Charley  was  supplied  with  a  fresh  horse 
and  followed  as  before. 

Next  day  the  mustangs  walked  with  heads 
held  low,  and  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  the  Black 
Pacer  at  times  they  were  less  than  a  hundred 
yards  ahead  of  their  pursuer. 

The  fourth  and  fifth  days  passed  the  same 
way,  and  now  the  herd  was  nearly  back  to  Ante- 
lope Springs.  So  far  all  had  come  out  as  ex- 
Oected.     The  chase  had  been  in  a  great  circle 

m 


ii 


The  Pacing  Mustang 


)1  'he  jaded 

ose  at  hand, 
id  not  go  far 
The  battle 
lief  difficulty 
track  of  the 
hen  they  are 

;ht,  generally 

ten  o'clock, 

Peak  and  that 

quarter  of  a 

than  the  day 

th  again.     At 

a  fresh  horse 

;d  with  heads 
rts  of  the  Black 
lan  a  hundred 

ssed  the  same 
y  back  to  Ante- 
Dine  out  as  ex- 
1  a  great  circle 


Jirith  the  wagon  following  a  lesser  circle.  The 
wild  herd  was  back  to  its  starting-point,  worn 
out ;  and  the  hunters  were  back,  fresh  and  ^u 
fresh  horses.  The  herd  was  kept  from  drink 
ing  till  late  in  the  afternoon  and  then  driven 
to  the  Springs  to  swell  themselves  with  a  per- 
fect water  gorge.  Now  was  the  chance  for  the 
skilful  ropers  on  the  grain-fed  horses  to  close 
in,  for  the  sudden  heavy  drink  was  ruination,  al- 
most paralysis,  of  wind  and  limb,  and  it  would 
be  e?sy  to  rope  and  hobble  them  one  by  one. 

There  was  only  one  weak  spot  in  the  pro- 
gramme, the  Black  Stallion,  the  cause  of  the 
hunt,  seemed  made  of  iron,  that  ceaseless  swing 
ing  pace  seemed  as  swift  and  vigorous,  now  as  on 
the  morning  when  the  chase  began.  Up  and 
down  he  went  rounding  up  the  herd  and  urging 
them  on  by  voice  and  example  to  escape.  But 
they  were  played  out.  The  old  white  mare  that 
had  been  such  help  in  sighting  them  at  night, 
had  dropped  out  hours  ago,  dead  beat.  The 
half-bloods  seemed  to  be  losing  all  fear  of  the 
horse- f.en,  the  band  was  clearly  in  Jo's  power. 
But  tiie  one  who  was  the  prize  of  all  the  hunt 
seemed  just  an  far  as  ever  out  of  reach. 


*!^ 


The  Pacing:  Mustang: 


Here  was  a  puzzle.  Jo's  comrades  knev 
lt>im  well  and  would  not  have  been  surprised  to 
S(,'e  him  in  a  sudden  rage  attempt  to  shoot  the 
Stallion  down.  But  Jo  had  no  such  mind 
During  that  long  week  of  following  h*  had 
watched  the  horse  all  day  at  speed  and  never 
once  had  he  seen  him  gallop. 

The  horseman's  adoration  of  a  noble  horse 
had  grown  and  grown,  till  now  he  would  as 
soon  have  thought  of  shooting  his  best  mount 
as  firing  on  that  splendid  beast.  f 

Jo  even  asked  himself  whether  he  would  take 
the  handsome  sum  that  was  offered  for  the 
prize.  Such  an  animal  would  be  a  fortune  in 
himself  to  sire  a  race  of  pacers  for  the  track. 

But  the  prize  was  still  at  large — the  time  had 
come  to  finish  ;ip  the  hunt.  Jo's  finest  mount 
was  caught.  Sh<;  was  a  mare  of  Eastern  blood, 
but  raised  on  the  plains.  She  never  would  have 
come  into  Jo's  possession  but  for  a  curious  weak- 
ness. The  loco  is  a  poisonous  weed  that  grows 
in  these  regions.  Most  stock  will  not  touch  it ; 
but  sometimes  an  animal  tries  it  and  becomes 
addicted  to  it.  It  acts  somewhat  like  morphine, 
but  the  animal,  though  sane  for  long  intervals, 


a46 


M 


'WU» 


I    1 


y 


irades  knev 
surprised  to 
to  shoot  the 
such  mind 
ing  h*!  ha  J 
i  and  never 

noble  horse 

he  would  as 

best  mount 

le  would  take 
sred   for  the 

a  fortune  in 
the  track, 
-the  time  had 
;  finest  ir.ount 
Eastern  blood, 
rer  would  have 
curious  weak - 
;ed  that  grows 
.  not  touch  it ; 

and  becomes 
like  morphine, 
long  intervals, 


The  Pacing  Mustang 

rtTZ  always  a  passion  for  the  herb  and  finally 
uies  mad.  A  beast  with  the  craze  is  said  to 
be  locoed.  And  Jo's  best  mount  had  a  wild 
gleam  in  her  eye  that  to  an  expert  told  the 
tale. 

But  she  was  swift  and  strong  and  Jo  chose 
her  for  the  grand  finish  of  the  chase.  It  would 
have  been  an  easy  matter  now  to  rope  the 
mares,  but  was  no  longer  necessary.  They 
could  be  separated  from  their  black  leader  and 
driven  home  to  the  corral.  But  that  leader 
still  had  the  look  of  untamed  strength.  Jo,  re- 
joicing in  a  worthy  foe,  went  bounding  forth 
to  try  the  odds.  The  lasso  was  flung  on  the 
ground  and  trailed  to  >ike  out  every  kink,  and 
gathered  as  he  rode  into  neatest  coils  across 
his  left  palm.  Then  putting  on  the  spur  the 
first  time  in  that  chase  he  rode  straight  for  the 
Stallion  a  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond.  Away  he 
went,  and  away  went  Jo,  each  at  his  best,  while 
the  fagged-out  mares  scattered  right  and  left 
and  let  them  pass.  Straight  across  the  open 
plain  the  fresh  horse  went  at  its  hardest  gallop, 
and  the  Stallion,  leading  off,  still  kept  his  start 
and  kept  his  famous  swing. 

«47 


The  Pacing:  Mustangs 

It  was  incredible,  and  Jo  put  on  more  spa** 
and  shouted  to  his  horse,  which  fairly  flew,  but 
shortened  up  the  space  between  by  not  a  single 
inch.  For  the  Black  One  whirled  across  the 
flat  and  up  and  passed  a  soapweed  mesa  and 
down  across  a  sandy  treacherous  plain,  then 
over  a  grassy  stretch  where  prairie  dogs  barked, 
then  hid  below,  and  on  came  Jo,  but  there  to 
see,  could  he  believe  his  eyes,  the  Stallion's 
start  grown  longer  still,  and  Jo  began  to  curse 
his  luck,  and  urge  and  spur  his  horse  until  the 
poor  uncertain  brute  got  into  suci.  a  state  of 
nervous  fright,  her  eyes  began  to  roll,  she 
wildly  shook  her  head  from  side  to  side,  no 
longer  picked  her  ground — a  badger-hole  re- 
ceived her  foot  and  down  she  went,  and  Jo  went 
flying  to  the  earth.  Though  badly  bruised,  he 
gained  his  feet  and  tried  to  mount  his  crazy 
beast.  But  she,  poor  brute,  was  done  for — her 
offt  fore-leg  hung  loose.  ' 

There  was  but  one  thing  to  do.  Jo  loosed 
the  cinch,  put  Lightfoot  out  of  pain,  and  car- 
ried back  the  saddle  to  the  camp.  While  the 
Pacer  steamed  away  till  lost  to  view. 

This  was  not  quite  defeat,  for  all  the  mares 
348 


I 


The  Pacing:  Mustang: 


n  more  spu'' 
rly  flew,  but 
not  a  single 
i  across  the 
;d  mesa  and 

plain,  then 
dogs  barked, 
but  there  to 
the  Stallion's 
legan  to  curse 
orse  until  the 
ich  a  state  of 

to  roll,  she 
s  to  side,  no 
idger-hole  re- 
t,  and  Jo  went 
[ly  bruised,  he 
mnt  his  crazy 
done  for — her 

lo.  Jo  loosed 
pain,  and  car- 
p.     While  the 

,ew. 
all  the  mares 


(vrere  manageable  now,  and  Jo  and  Charley 
drove  them  carefully  to  tlie  '  L  cross  F '  corral 
and  claimed  a  good  reward.  But  Jo  was  more 
than  ever  boimd  to  own  the  Stallion.  He  had 
seen  what  stuff  he  was  aaade  of,  he  prized  him 
more  and  more,  and  only  sought  to  strike  some 
better  plan  to  catch  him. 


IV 


The  cook  on  that  trip  was  Bates — Mr.  Thom- 
as Bates,  he  called  himself  at  the  post-office 
where  he  regularly  went  for  the  letters  and  r> 
mittance  which  never  came.  Old  Tom  Tuv- 
keytrack,  the  boys  called  him,  from  his  cattle- 
brand,  which  he  said  was  on  record  at  Denver, 
and  which,  according  to  his  story,  was  also 
borne  by  countless  beef  and  saddle  stock  on 
the  plains  of  the  unknown  North. 

When  asked  to  join  the  trip  as  a  partner.  Bates 
made  some  sarcastic  remarks  about  horses  not 
fetching  $12  a  dozen,  which  had  been  literally 
true  within  the  year,  and  he  preferred  to  go  on  a 
very  meagre  salary.  But  no  one  who  once  saw 
the  Pacer  going  had  failed  to  catch  the  craze. 

>49 


•  ?    ilk 


'I! 


i  , 


o 


A 


The  Pacing  Mustangf 

fWkeytrack  experienced  the  usual  change  ol 
heart.  He  now  wanted  to  own  that  mustang. 
How  this  was  to  be  brought  about  he  did  not 
clearly  see  till  one  day  there  called  at  the  ranch 
that  had  <  secured  his  services/  as  he  nut  it,  one, 
Bill  Smith,  more  usually  known  as  Horseshoe 
Billy,  from  his  cattle-brand.  While  the  excel- 
lent fresh  beef  and  bread  and  the  vile  coffee, 
dried  peaches  and  molasses  were  being  con- 
sumed, he  of  the  horseshoe  remarked,  in  tones 
which  percolated  through  a  huge  stop-gap  of 
bread : 

**  Wall,  I  seen  that  thar  Pacer  to-day,  nigh 
enough  to  put  a  plait  in  his  tail." 
"  What,  you  didn't  shoot?  " 
"  No,  but  I  come  mighty  near  it.'* 
"  Don't  you  be  led  into  no  sich  foolishness,'* 
said  a  'double-bar  H*  cow-puncher  at  the  other 
end  of  the  table.     "  I  calc'late  that  maverick 
'ill  carry  my  brand  before  the  moon  changes." 
"You'll  have  to  be  pretty  spry  or  you'll  find 
a  '  triangle  dot '  on  his  weather  side  when  you 
get  there." 

"  Where  did  you  run  acrost  him  ?  " 
**  Wall,  it  was  like  this ;  I  was  riding  the 
350 


change  ol 
It  mustang, 
he  did  not 
It  the  ranch 
nut  it,  one, 
i  Horseshoe 
e  the  excel- 
vile  coffee, 
being  con- 
ed, in  tones 
stop-gap  of 

to-day,  nigh 


foolishness,** 
r  at  the  other 
\at  maverick 
jn  changes." 
ar  you'll  find 
de  when  you 

IS  riding  the 


The  Pacing;  Mustang; 

flat  by  Antelope  Springs  and  I  sees  a  lump  on 
Ihe  dry  mud  inside  the  rush  belt.  I  knowed  I 
never  seen  that  before,  so  rides  up,  thinking  it 
might  be  some  of  our  stock,  an'  seen  it  was  a 
horse  lying  plumb  flat.     The  wind  was  blowing 

like  from  him  to  me,  so  I  rides  up  close 

and  seen  it  was  the  Pacer,  dead  as  a  mackerel. 
Still,  he  didn't  look  b  elled  or  cut,  and  there 
wa'n't  no  smell,  an'  1  didn't  know  what  to 
think  till  I  seen  his  ear  twitch  off  a  fly  and 
then  I  knowed  he  was  sleeping.  I  git  down 
me  rope  and  coils  it,  and  seen  it  was  old  and 
pretty  shaky  in  spots,  and  me  saddle  a  single 
cinch,  an'  me  pony  about  700  again  a  1,200  lbs. 
stallion,  an'  I  sez  to  meself,  sez  I :  '  'Tain'tno 
use,  I'll  only  break  me  cinch  and  git  throwed 
an'  lose  me  saddle.'  So  I  hits  the  saddle-horn  a 
crack  with  the  hondu,  and  I  wish't  you'd  a 
s^;en  that  mustang.  He  lept  six  foot  in  the  air 
an'  snorted  like  he  was  shunting  cars.  His 
eyes  fairly  bugged  out  an'  he  lighted  out  lickety 
split  for  California,  and  he  orter  be  there 
about  now  if  he  kep'  on  like  he  started — and 
I  swear  he  never  made  a  break  the  huU 
trip." 

251 


The  Pacingf  Mustang 


*i 


'•1: 


The  story  was  not  quite  so  consecutive  at 
given  here.  It  was  much  punctuated  by  present 
engrossments,  and  from  first  to  last  was  more  or 
less  infiltrated  through  the  necessaries  of  life, 
for  Bill  was  a  healthy  young  man  without  a 
trace  of  false  shame.  But  the  account  was  com- 
plete and  everyone  believed  it,  for  Billy  wm 
known  to  be  reliable.  Of  all  those  who  heard, 
old  Turkeytrack  talked  tne  least  and  probabl) 
thought  the  most,  for  it  gave  him  a  new  idea.' 

During  his  after-dinner  pipe  he  studied  it  out 
and  deciding  that  he  could  not  go  it  alone,  he 
took  Horseshoe  Billy  into  his  council  and  the 
result  was  a  partnership  in  a  new  venture  to  capt- 
ure the  Pacer;  that  is,  the  $5,000  that  was  now 
said  to  be  the  offer  for  him  safe  in  a  box-car. 

Antelope  Springs  was  still  the  usual  watering- 
place  of  the  Pacer.  The  water  being  low  left 
a  broad  belt  of  dry  black  mud  between  the 
sedge  and  the  spring.  At  two  places  this  belt 
was  broken  by  a  well-marked  trail  made  by  the 
animals  coming  to  drink.  Horses  and  wild 
animals  usually  kept  to  these  trails,  though  the. 
horned  cattle  had  no  hesitation  in  taking  / 
short  cut  through  the  sedge. 

252 


ecutlve  ai 
by  present 
as  more  or 
es  of  life, 
without  a 
it  was  com* 
•  Billy  wt' 
who  heard, 
d  probabl> 
new  idea, 
udied  it  out 
it  alone,  he 
ncil  and  the 
iture  to  capt- 
that  was  now 
a  box-car. 
lal  watering- 
ling  low  left 
between  the 
aces  this  belt 

made  \>y  the 
ses  and  wild 
3,  though  the. 

in  taking  : 


The  Pacing^  Mustang^ 

In  the  most  used  of  these  trails  the  two  mca 
set  to  work  with  shovels  and  digged  a  pit  15 
feet  long,  6  feet  wide  and  7  feet  deep.  It  was 
a  hard  twenty  hours  work  for  them  as  it  had  to 
be  completed  between  the  Mustang'sdrinks,  and 
it  Ijegan  to  be  very  damp  work  before  it  was 
finished.  With  poles,  brush,  and  earth  it  was 
then  cleverly  covered  over  and  concealed.  And 
the  men  went  to  a  distance  and  hid  in  pits 
made  for  the  purpose. 

About  noon  the  Pacer  came,  alone  now  since 
the  capture  of  his  band.  The  trail  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  mud  belt  was  little  used,  and 
old  Tom,  by  throwing  some  fresh  ruslies  across 
it,  expected  to  make  sure  that  the  Stallion 
would  enter  by  the  other,  if  indeed  he  should 
by  any  caprice  try  to  come  by  the  unusual  path, 
^  What  sleepless  angel  is  it  watches  over  and 
cares  for  the  wild  animals  ?  In  spite  of  all  rea- 
sons to  take  the  usual  path,  the  Pacer  came 
along  the  other.  The  susjiicious-looking  rushes 
did  not  stop  him;  he  walked  calmly  to  the 
water  and  drank.  There  was  only  one  way 
now  to  prevent  utter  failure ;  when  he  lowered 
his  head  foi  the  second  draft  which  horses  aJ- 

253 


it 


-*«riT  i->iiWrta»MI 


The  Pacing;  Mustang; 

ways  take,  Bates  „nd  Smith  quit  their  holfano 
ran  swiftly  toward  the  trail  liehind  him,  and 
when  he  raised  his  proud  head  Smith  sent  » 
revolver-shot  into  the  ground  behind  him. 

Away  went  the  Pacer  at  his  famous  gait 
straight  to  the  trap.  Another  second  and  he 
would  be  into  it.  Already  he  is  on  the  trail, 
and  already  they  feel  they  have  him,  but  the 
Angel  of  the  wild  things  is  with  him,  that  in- 
comprehensible warning  comes,  and  with  one 
mighty  bound  he  clears  the  fifteen  feet  of 
treacherous  ground  and  spurns  the  earth  as  he 
fades  away  unharmed,  never  again  to  visit  An* 
telope  Springs  by  either  of  the  beaten  paths. 


Wild  Jo  never  lacked  energy.  He  meant 
to  catch  that  Mustang,  and  when  he  learned 
that  others  were  bestirring  themselves  for  th«» 
same  purpose  he  at  once  set  about  trying  the 
best  untried  plan  he  knew — the  plan  by  which 
the  coyote  catches  the  fleeter  jackrabbit,  and 
the  mounted  Indian  the  far  swifter  antelope— 
the  old  plan  of  the  relay  chase. 


The  Pacingf  Mustang 

The  Canadian  River  on  the  south,  its  affluent, 
the  Pinavetitos  Arroyo,  on  the  northeast,  and 
the  Don  Carlos  Hills  with  the  Ute  Creek  Canon 
on  the  west,  formed  a  sixty-mile  triangle  that 
was  the  range  of  the  Pacer.  It  was  believed 
that  he  never  went  outside  this,  and  at  all  times 
Antelope  Springs  was  his  headquarters.  Jo 
knew  this  country  well,  all  the  water-holes 
and  canon  crossings  as  well  as  the  ways  of  the 
Pacer. 

If  he  could  have  gotten  fifty  good  horses  he 
could  have  posted  them  to  advantage  so  as  to 
cover  all  points,  but  twenty  mounts  and  five 
good  riders  were  all  that  proved  available. 

The  horses,  grain-fed  for  two  weeks  before, 
were  sent  on  ahead;  each  man  was  instructed 
now  to  play  his  part  and  sent  to  his  post  the  day 
before  I'ne  race.  On  the  day  of  the  start  Jo 
with  his  wagon  drove  to  the  plain  of  Antelope 
Springs  and,  camping  far  off  in  a  little  draw, 
waited. 

At  last  he  came,  that  coal-black  Horse,  out 
from  the  sand-hills  at  the  south,  alone  as  always 
now,  and  walked  calmly  down  to  the  Springs 
and  circled  quite  around  it  to  sniff  for  any  hid- 

2C'" 


i 

0 


ir't 


The  Pacing;  Mustang; 

den  foe.  Then  he  approached  where  there  was 
no  trail  at  all  and  drank. 

Jo  watched  and  wished  he  would  drink  a 
hogshead.  But  the  moment  that  he  turned 
and  sought  the  grass  Jo  spurred  his  steed.  The 
Pacer  heard  the  hoofs,  then  saw  the  running 
horse,  and  did  not  want  a  nearer  view  but  led 
away.  Across  the  flat  he  went  down  to  the 
south,  and  kept  the  famous  swinging  gait  that 
made  his  start  grow  longer.  <  Now  through  the 
sandy  dunes  he  went,  and  steadying  to  an  even 
pace  he  gained  considerably  and  Jo's  too-laden 
horse  plunged  through  the  sand  and  sinking  fet- 
lock deep,  he  Host  at  every  bouno  i  nen  came  » 
\evel  stretch  where  the  runnei  seemed  to  t?a»ri> 
and  then  a  long  dechne  where  ]o'»  horse  dared 
not  run  his  best,  so  (est  again  4t  every  step. 

But  on  they  went,  and  Jo  spared  neither  spur 
nor  quirt.  A  mile — a  mile — and  another  mile, 
and  the  far-off  rock  at  Arriba  loomed  up 
ahead.  .    . 

And  there  Jo  knew  fresh  mounts  were  held, 
and  on  they  dashed.  But  the  night-black 
mane  out  level  on  the  breeze  ahead  was  gaining 
more  and  more. 


there  was 

I  drink  a 
le  turned 
ed.  The 
;  running 
V  but  led 
vn  to  the 

gait  that 
rough  the 
;o  an  even 

too-laden 
inking  fet- 
len  came  » 
d  to  gaiTik 
orse  dared 
ry  step, 
leitherspur 
other  mile, 
loomed  up 

were  held, 
night-black 
kvas  gaining 


Tht  Padngf  Mustang 

Arriba  Cafion  reached  at  last,  the  watcher 
stood  aside,  for  it  was  not  wished  to  turn  the 
race,  and  the  Stallion  passed — dashed  down, 
across  and  up  the  slope,  with  that  unbroken 
pace,  the  only  one  he  knew. 

And  Jo  came  bounding  on  his  foaming 
steed,  and  leaped  on  the  waiting  mount,  then 
urged  him  down  the  slope  and  up  upon  the 
track,  and  on  the  upland  once  more  drove  in 
the  spurs,  and  raced  and  raced,  and  raced,  but 
not  a  single  inch  lie  gained. 

Ga-lump,  ga-lump,  ga-lump  with  measured 
beat  he  went — an  hour — an  hour,  and  another 
hour — Arroyo  Alamosa  just  ahead  with  fresh 
relays,  and  Jo  yelled  at  his  horse  and  pushed 
him  on  and  on.  Straight  for  the  place  the 
Black  One  made,  but  on  the  last  two  miles* 
some  strange  foreboding  turned  him  to  the  left, 
and  Jo  foresaw  escape  in  this,  and  pushed 
his  jaded  mount  at  any  cost  to  head  him  ofT, 
and  hard  as  they  had  raced  this  was  the  hard- 
est race  of  all,  with  gasps  for  breath  and  leather 
squeaks  at  every  straining  bound.  Then  cut- 
ting right  across,  Jo  seemed  to  gain,  and  draw- 
ing his  gun  he  fired  shot  after  shot  to  toss  the 

•17 


The  Pacing:  Muftang 


m 


t  u 


^t,  and  so  turned  the  Stallion's  head  and 
forced  him  back  to  take  the  crossing  to  the  right. 

Down  they  went.  The  Stallion  crossed  and 
Jo  sprang  to  the  ground.  His  horse  was  done, 
for  thirty  miles  had  passed  in  the  last  stretch, 
and  Jo  himself  was  worn  out.  His  eyes  were 
burnt  witii  tlying  alkali  dust.  He  was  half  blind 
so  he  motioned  to  his  <  pard'  to  "go  ahead  and 
keep  him  straight  for  Alamosa  ford." 

Out  shot  the  rider  on  a  strong,  fresh  steed, 
and  away  they  went — ^up  and  down  on  the  roll- 
ing plain — the  Black  Horse  flecked  with  snowy 
foam.  His  heaving  ribs  and  noisy  breath 
showed  what  he  felt — but  on  and  <Jn  he  went. 

And  Tom  on  Ginger  seemed  to  gain,  then 
lose  and  lose,  when  in  an  hour  the  long  decline 
of  Alamosa  came.  And  there  a  freshly  mounted 
lad  took  up  the  chase  and  turned  it  west,  and 
on  they  went  past  towns  of  prairie  dogs, 
through  soapweed  tracts  and  cactus  brakes  by 
scores,  and  pricked  and  wrtnched  rode  on. 
With  dust  and  sweat  the  Black  was  now  a 
dappled  brown,  but  still  he  stepped  the  same. 
Young  Carrington,  who  followed,  nad  hurt  his 
steed  by  pushing  at  the  very  start,  and  spurred 


The  Jf  adngf  Mustang 


head  and 
the  right, 
ossed  and 
was  done, 
it  stretch, 
eyes  were 
half  blind 
ahead  and 

esh  steed, 
jn  the  roU- 
vith  snowy 
lisy  breath 
,  he  went, 
gain,  then 
jng  decline 
ly  mounted 
t  west,  and 
lirie    dogs, 
brakes  by 

rode  on. 
was  now  a 

the  same, 
ad  hurt  his 
and  spurred 


«iid  urged  him  now  to  cut  across  a  gulch  at 
ivhich  the  Pacer  shied.  Just  one  misstep  and 
down  they  went. 

The  boy  escaped,  but  the  pony  lies  there 
yet,  and  the  wild  Black  Horse  kept  on. 

This  was  close  to  old  Gallego's  ranch  where 
Jo  himself  had  cut  across  rc'"»eshed  to  push  the 
chase.  Within  thirty  minutes  he  was  again 
scorching  the  Pacer's  trail. 
»>  Far  in  the  west  the  Carlos  Hills  were  seen, 
and  there  Jo  knew  fresh  men  and  mounts  were 
waiting,  a  "?  that  way  the  indomitable  rider 
tried  to  turn  the  race,  but  by  a  sudden  whim, 
of  the  inner  warning  born  perhaps — the  Pacer 
turned.  Sharp  to  the  north  he  went,  and  Jo, 
the  skilful  wrangler,  rode  and  rode  and  yelled 
and  tossed  the  dust  with  shots,  but  down  a 
gulch  the  wild  black  meteor  streamed  and  Jo 
could  only  follow.  Then  came  the  hardest  race 
of  all ;  To,  cruel  to  the  Mustang,  was  crueller  to 
his  mount  and  to  himself.  The  sun  was  hot, 
the  scorching  plain  was  dim  in  shimmering  heat, 
his  eyes  and  lips  were  burnt  with  sand  and  salt, 
and  yet  the  chase  sped  on.  The  only  chance 
to  win  would  be  if  he  could  drive  the  Mustang 

asQ 


ill 


f 


The  Pacmg  Mustang 

back  to  Big  Arroyo  Crossing.  Now  almost  for 
the  first  time  he  saw  signs  of  weakening  in  the 
Black.  His  mane  and  tail  were  not  just  quite  so 
high,  and  his  short  half  mile  of  start  was  dowc 
by  more  than  half,  but  still  he  stayed  ahead 
and  paced  and  paced  and  paced. 

An  hour  and  another  hour,  and  still  they  wem 
the  same.  But  they  turned  again,  and  night 
was  near  when  big  Arroyo  ford  was  reached— 
fully  twenty  miles.  But  Jo  was  game,  he  seized 
the  waiting  horse.  The  one  he  left  went  gabp- 
ing  to  the  stream  and  gorged  himself  with  wa- 
ter till  he  died. 

Then  Jo  held  back  in  hopes  the  foaming 
Black  would  drink.  But  he  was  wise ;  he  gulped 
a  single  gulp,  splashed  through  the  stream  and 
then  passed  on  with  Jo  at  speed  behind  him. 
And  when  they  last  were  seen  the  Black  was  on 
ahead  just  out  of  reach  and  Jo's  horse  bound- 
ing on. 

It  was  morning  when  Jo  came  to  camp  on 
foot.  His  tale  was  briefly  told  :— eight  horses 
dead — five  men  worn  out — the  matchless  Pacer 
safe  and  free 

"  'Taint  possible  ;  it  can't  be  done.  Sorry  1 
960 


ilmost  for 
ng  in  the 
t  quite  so 
was  down 
red  ahead 

they  wen  I 
and  night 
reached— 
,  he  seized 
vent  gaip- 
fwith  wa. 

e  foaming 
;  he  gulped 
stream  and 
hind  him. 
ack  was  on 
rse  bound- 

)  camp  on 
ight  horses 
hless  Pacei 

e.    Sorry  I 


'•^».\i«f 


Away  went  the  mustang  at  his  famous  pace. 


The  Pacing:  Mustang 


didn't  bore  his  hellish  carcass  through  when  I 
had  the  chance,"  said  Jo,  and  gave  it  up. 


▼I 

*    ■ 

Old  Turkejrtrack  was  cook  on  this  trip.  He 
had  watched  the  chase  with  as  much  interest  as 
anyone,  and  when  it  failed  he  grinned  into  the 
pot  and  said:  ''That  mustang's  mine  unless 
I'm  a  darned  fool."  Then  falling  back  on 
Scripture  for  a  precedent,  as  was  his  habit,  he 
still  addressed  the  pot : 

"  Reckon  the  Philistines  tried  to  run  Samson 
down  and  they  got  done  up,  an'  would  a  stayed 
done  ony  for  a  nat'ral  weakness  on  his  part. 
An', Adam  would  a  loafed  in  Eden  yit  ony 
for  a  leetle  failing  which  we  all  onderstand. 
An*  it  aint  $5000  I'll  take  for  him  nuther." 
^  Much  persecution  had  made  the  Pacer  wilder 
than  ever.  But  it  did  not  drive  him  away  from 
Antelope  Springs.  That  was  the  only  drinking* 
place  with  absolutely  no  shelter  for  a  mile  on 
every  side  to  hide  an  enemy.     Here  he  caoM 

«6^ 


I'; 


11 


The  Padngf  Mustang 


«t  : 


almost  every  day  about  noon,  and  after  thor- 
oughly spying  the  land  approached  to  drink. 

His  had  been  a  lonely  life  all  winter  since  the 
capture  of  his  harem,  and  of  this  old  Turkey 
track  was  fully  aware.  The  old  cook's  chum  had 
a  nice  little  brown  mare  which  he  judged  would 
serve  his  ends,  and  taking  a  pair  of  the  strongest 
hobbles,  a  spade,  a  spare  lasso,  and  a  stout  post 
he  mounted  the  mare  and  rode  away  to  the 
famous  Springs. 

A  few  antelope  skimmed  over  the  plain  be« 
fore  him  in  the  early  freshness  of  the  day.  Cat- 
tle were  lying  about  in  groups,  and  the  loud, 
sweet  song  of  the  prairie  lark  was  heard  on 
every  side.  For  the  bright  snowless  winter  of 
the  mesas  was  gone  and  the  springtime  was  at 
hand.  The  grass  was  greening  and  all  nature 
seemed  turning  to  thoughts  of  love. 

It  was  in  the  air,  and  when  the  little  brown 
mare  was  picketed  out  to  graze  she  raised  her 
nose  from  time  to  time  to  pour  forth  a  long 
shrill  whinny  that  surely  was  her  song,  if  son;; 
she  had,  of  love. 

Old  Turkeytrack  studied  the  wind  and  the 
lay  of  the  land.  There  was  the  pit  he  had  la- 
bored at,  now  ooened  and  filled  with  water  that 

264 


iht.  facing'  MusTaiig' 


brown 

ised  her 

a  long 

if  song 


iras  rank  with  drowned  prairie  dogs  and  nnloe. 
Here  was  the  new  trail  the  animals  were  forced 
(D  make  by  the  pit.  He  selected  a  sedgy  clump 
near  some  smooth,  grassy  ground,  and  first 
firmly  sunk  the  post,  then  dug  a  hole  large 
enough  to  hide  in,  and  spread  his  blanket  in  it 
He  shortened  up  the  little  mare's  tether,  till  she 
could  scarcely  move ;  then  on  the  ground  be- 
tween he  spread  his  open  lasso,  tying  the  long 
end  to  the  post,  then  covered  the  rope  with 
dust  and  grass,  and  went  into  his  hiding-place. 
About  noon,  after  long  waiting,  the  amorous, 
whinny  of  the  mare  was  answered  from  the  high 
ground,  away  to  the  west,  and  there,  black 
against  the  sky,  was  the  famous  Mustang. 
V-  Down  he  came  at  that  long  swinging  gait, 
but  grown  crafty  with  much  pursuit,  he  often 
stopped  to  gaze  and  whinny,  and  got  answer 
that  surely  touched  his  heart.  Nearer  he  came 
again  to  call,  then  took  alarm,  and  paced  all 
around  in  a  great  circle  to  try  the  wind  for  his 
foes,  and  seemed  in  doubt.  The  Angel  whis- 
pered "Don't  go."  But  the  brown  mare  called 
again  He  circled  nearer  still,  and  neighed 
once  more,  and  got  reply  that  seemed  to  quell 
ill  fears,  and  set  his  heart  aglow. 

265 


11- 


The  Padng:  Mustaagr 

Nearer  still  he  pranced,  till  he  touched  Solly'i 
•ose  with  his  own,  and  finding  her  as  responsive 
as  he  well  could  wish,  thrust  aside  all  thoughts 
of  danger,  and  abandoned  himself  to  the  de- 
light of  conquest,  until,  as  he  pranced  around, 
his  hind  legs  for  a  moment  stood  within  the  evil 
circle  of  the  rope.  One  deft  sharp  twitch,  the 
noose  flew  tight,  and  he  was  caught. 

A  snort  of  terror  and  a  bound  in  the  air  gave 
Tom  the  chance  to  add  the  double  hitch.  The 
loop  flashed  up  the  line,  and  snake-like  bound 
those  mighty  hoofs. 

Terror  lent  speed  and  double  strength  for  a 
moment,  but  the  end  of  the  rope  was  reached, 
and  down  he  went  a  captive,  a  hopeless  prisoner 
at  last.  Old  Tom's  ugly,  little  crooked  form 
sprang  from  the  pit  to  complete  the  mastering 
of  the  great  glorious  creature  whose  mighty 
Strength  had  proved  as  nothing  when  matched 
with  the  wits  of  a  little  old  man.  With  snorts 
and  desperate  bounds  of  awful  force  the  great 
beast  dashed  and  struggled  to  be  free;  but  all  in 
vain.     The  rope  was  strong. 

The  second  lasso  was  deftly  swung,  and  the 
forefeet  caught,  and  then  with  a  skilful  mov^ 

066 


1  SoUy'i 
sponsive 
thoughts 
»  the  de- 
around,    1 


1  the  evil 
atch,  the 


€ 


e  air  gave 
ch.  The 
ke  bound 

igth  for  a 
fi  reached, 
;ss  prisoner 
joked  form 

mastering 
»se  mighty 
n  matched 
\rith  snorts 
:e  the  great 

;  but  all  in 

g,  and  the 
cilful  mov*! 


The  Pac2nsf  Mustang 

the  feet  were  drawn  together,  and  down  went 
{he  raging  Pacer  to  lie  a  moment  later  '  hog-tied ' 
and  helpless  on  the  ground.  There  he  struggled 
till  worn  out,  sobbing  great  convulsive  sobs 
while  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks. 

Tom  stood  by  and  watched,  but  a  strange  re- 
vulsion of  feeling  came  over  the  old  cow- 
puncher.  He  trembled  nervously  from  head  to 
foot,  as  he  had  not  done  since  he  roped  his  first 
steer,  and  for  a  while  could  do  nothing  but  gaze 
on  his  tremendous  prisoner.  But  the  feeling  soon 
passed  away.  He  saddled  Delilah,  and  taking 
the  secor.d  lasso,  roped  the  great  horse  about 
the  neck,  and  left  the  mare  to  hold  the  Stallion's 
head,  while  he  put  on  the  hobbles.  This  was 
soon  done,  and  sure  of  him  now  old  Bates  was 
about  to  loose  the  ropes,  but  on  a  sudden 
thought  he  stopped.  He  had  quite  forgotten, 
and  had  come  unprepared  for  something  of  im- 
portance. In  Western  law  the  Mustang  was  the 
property  of  the  first  man  to  mark  him  with  his 
brand ;  how  was  this  to  be  dope  with  the  near- 
est branding-iron  twenty  miles  away  ? 

Old  Tom  went  to  his  mare,  took  up  her  hoofs 
one  at  a  time,  and  examined  each  shoe.     Yes  I 

•67 


7» 


Ji. 


Hi 


fi 

11! 


Ill: 


fl.l  f    t 


^ 


The  Pacingf  Mustang 

one  was  a  little  loose  ;  he  pushed  and  pried  it 
with  the  spade,  and  got  it  off.  Buffalo  chips 
and  kindred  fuel  were  plentiful  about  the  plain, 
so  a  fire  was  quickly  made,  and  he  soon  had  one 
arm  of  the  horse-shoe  red  hot,  then  holding  the 
other  wrapped  in  his  sock  he  rudely  sketched 
on  the  left  shoulder  of  the  helpless  mustang  a 
turkeytrack,  his  brand,  the  first  time  really 
that  it  had  ever  been  used.  The  Pacer  shud- 
dered as  the  hot  iron  seared  his  flesh,  but  it  was 
quickly  done,  and  the  famous  Mustang  Stallion 
was  a  maverick  no  more. 

Now  all  there  was  to  do  was  to  take  him 
home.  The  ropes  were  loose  i,  the  Mustang 
felt  himself  freed,  thought  he  was  free,  and 
sprang  to  his  feet  only  to  fall  as  soon  as  he 
tried  to  take  a  stride.  His  forefeet  were  strong- 
ly tied  together,  his  only  possible  gait  a  shuf- 
fling walk,  or  else  a  desperate  labored  bounding 
with  feet  so  unnaturally  held  that  within  a  few 
yards  he  was  inevitably  thrown  each  time  he 
tried  to  break  away.  Tom  on  the  light  pony 
headed  him  off  again  and  again,  and  by  dint  of 
driving,  threatening,  and  manceuvring,  con- 
trived to  force  his  foaming,  crazy  captive  north* 

afA 


liir 


The  Pacing  Mtsstangf 


pried  it 
io  chips 
le  plain, 
had  one 
ding  the 
sketched 
lustang  a 
e    really 
:er  shud- 
)ut  it  was 
;  Stallion 

;ake  hint 
Mustang 
free,  and 
>on  as  he 
re  strong- 
lit  a  shuf- 
bounding 
thin  a  few 
h  time  he 
ight  pony 
by  dint  oi 
ing,    con- 
tive  north- 


ward toward  the  Pifiavetitiis  Cafion.  But  the 
wild  horse  would  not  drive,  would  not  give  in. 
With  snorts  of  terror  or  of  rage  and  mad'lest 
bounds,  he  tried  and  tried  to  get  away.  It 
was  one  long  cruel  fight ;  his  glossy  sides  were 
thick  with  dark  foam,  and  the  foam  was  stained 
with  blood.  Countless  hard  falls  and  exhaus- 
tion that  a  long  day's  chase  was  powerless  to  pro- 
duce were  telling  on  him;  his  straining  bounds 
first  this  way  and  then  that,  were  not  now 
quite  so  strong,  and  the  spray  he  snorted  as  he 
gasped  was  half  a  spray  of  blood.  But  his 
captor,  relentless,  masterful  and  cool,  still  forced 
him  on.  Down  the  slope  toward  the  cafion 
they  had  come,  every  yard  a  fight,  and  now 
they  were  at  the  head  of  the  draw  that  took  the 
trail  down  to  the  only  crossing  of  the  cafion,  the 
no'thmost  limit  of  the  Pacer's  ancient  range. 

From  this  the  first  corral  and  ranch-house 
were  in  sight.  The  man  rejoiced,  but  the 
Mustang  gathered  his  remaining  strength  for 
one  more  desperate  dash.  Up,  up  the  grassy 
lope  from  the  trail  he  went,  defied  the  swing- 
ing, slashing  rope  and  the  gunshot  fired  in  air, 
'n   vain  attempt   to  turn   his  frenzied  cours*. 


The  Pacings  Mustangs 

Up,  up  and  on,  above  the  sheerest  cliff  he  dashed 
then  sprang  away  into  the  vacant  air,  down — - 
down — two  hundred  downward  feet  to  fall,  and 
land  upon  the  rocks  below,  a  lifeless  wreck- 
but  free. 


370 


Hp^ 


A 


i   'ifS 


nm 


'iH  ; 


^^»««»^v». 


WuHy 

The  Story  o£  a  Yallcr  Dog 


Ri'  T 


If;' 


tiOliMM 


m 


lU'  Il- 


ia J' 11 


sel 

p4 


Wully 
The  Story  of  a  Yallcr  Dog: 


WuLLY  was  a  little  yaller  dog.  A  yaller 
dog,  be  it  understood,  is  not  necessarily  the 
same  as  a  yellow  dog.  He  is  not  simply  a 
canine  whose  capillary  covering  is  highly  charged 
with  yellow  pigment.  He  is  the  mongrelest 
mixture  of  all  mongrels,  the  least  common  mul<- 
tiple  of  all  dogs,  the  breedless  union  of  all 
breeds,  and  though  of  no  breed  at  all,  he  is  yet 
of  older,  better  breed  than  any  of  his  aristocratic 
relations,  for  he  is  nature's  attempt  to  restore 
the  ancestral  jackal,  the  parent  stock  of  all  dogs. 

Indeed,  the  scientific  name  of  the  jackal 
{Cams  aureus)  means  simply  'yellow  dog,' 
and  not  a  few  of  that  animal's  characteristics  are 
seen  in  his  domesticated  representative.  For  the 
plebeian  cur  is  shrewd,  active,  and  hardy,  and 

275 


•  *■■ , 

^  ! 


'I 


WuUy 


T 


far  better  equipped  for  the  real  struggle  of  lite 
than  any  of  his  'thoroughbred'  kinsmen. 

If  we  were  to  abandon  a  yaller  dog,  a  grey- 
hound, and  a  bulldog  on  a  desert  island,  which 
of  them  aftf.r  six  months  would  be  alive  and 
well?  •  iJnquestionably  it  would  be  th'--  de- 
spised yellow  cur.  He  has  not  the  spaed  of 
the  greyhound,  but  neither  does  he  bear  the 
seeds  of  lung  and  skin  diseases.  He  has  noi 
the  strength  or  reckless  courage  of  the  bulldog, 
but  he  has  something  a  thousand  times  better, 
he  has  common  sense.  Health  and  wit  are  no 
mean  equipment  for  the  life  struggle,  and  when 
the  dog- world  is  not  '  managed  '  by  man,  they 
have  never  yet  failed  to  bring  out  the  yellow 
mongrel  as  the  sole  and  triumphant  survivor. 

Once  in  a  while  the  reversion  to  the  jackal 
type  is  more  complete,  and  the  yaller  dog  has 
pricked  and  pointed  ears.  Beware  of  him  then. 
He  is  cunning  and  plucky  and  can  bite  like  a 
wolf.  There  is  a  strange,  wild  streak  in  his 
nature  too,  that  under  cruelty  or  long  adversity 
may  develop  into  deadliest  treachery  in  spite 
of  the  better  traits  that  are  the  foundation  of 
man's  love  for  the  dog. 


gle  of  hie 
en. 

g,  a  grey- 
,nd,  which 
alive  and 
e  th'j  de- 
;  speed  of 
2  bear  the 
le  has  no\ 
tie  bulldog, 
mes  better, 
wit  are  no 
;,  and  when 
f  man,  they 
the  yellow 
■  survivor. 

0  the  jackal 
Her  dog  has 
of  him  then. 

1  bite  like  a 
jtreak  in  his 
ong  adversity 
hery  in  spite 
oundation  of 


i 

e 


mi 

I 


i 


I 


WoUy 


WAY  up  in  the  Cheviots  little  Wuiiv 
was  born.  He  and  one  other  of  the 
litter  were  kept ;  his  brother  because 
he  resembled  the  best  dog  in  the 
vicinity,  and  himself  because  he  was 
a  little  yellow  beauty. 
His  early  life  was  that  of  a  sheep-dog,  in 
company  with  an  experienced  collie  who 
trained  him,  and  an  old  shepherd  who  was 
scarcely  inferior  to  them  in  intelligence.  By 
the  time  he  was  two  years  old  Wully  was  full 
grown  and  had  taken  a  thorough  course  in 
sheep.  He  knew  them  from  ram-horn  to  lamb- 
hoof,  and  old  Robin,  his  master,  at  length  had 
such  confidence  in  his  sagacity  that  he  would 
frequently  stay  at  the  tavern  all  night  while 
Wully  guarded  the  woolly  idiots  :  .1  the  hills. 
His  education  had  been  wisely  bestowed  and 
in  most  ways  he  was  a  very  bright  little  dog 
with  a  future  before  him.  Yet  he  never  learned 
to  despise  that  addle-pated  Robin.  The  old 
shepherd,    with  all   his   faults,    his    continual 

a79 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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US 


12.2 


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lU 


2.0 


m 


r       ■ 

11:25  |U|J^ 

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6"     

^ 

Photographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


33  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

WltSTM.N.Y.  MSM 

(716)I72-4S03 


0 


WaUy 


striving  after  his  ideal  state — intoxication — and 
his  mind-shrivelling  life  in  general  was  rarely 
brutal  to  WuUy,  and  Wuily  repaid  him  with  an 
exaggerated  worship  that  the  greatest  and  wisest 
in  the  land  would  have  aspired  to  in  vain. 

Wully  could  not  have  imagined  any  greater 
being  than  Robin,  and  yet  for  the  sum  of  five 
shillings  a  week  all  Robin's  vital  energy  and 
mental  force  were  pledged  to  the  service  of  a 
not  very  great  cattle  and  sheep  dealer,  the  real 
proprietor  of  Wully's  charge,  and  when  this 
man,  really  less  great  than  the  neighboring 
laird,  ordered  Robin  to  drive  his  flock  by 
stages  to  the  Yorkshire  moors  and  markets,  of 
all  the  376  mentalities  concerned,  Wully's  was 
the  most  interested  and  interesting. 

The  journey  through  Northumberland  was 
uneventful.  At  the  River  Tyne  the  sheep  were 
driven  on  to  the  ferry  and  landed  safely  in 
smoky  South  Shields.  The  great  factory  chim- 
neys were  just  starting  up  for  the  day  and  belch- 
ing out  fogbanks  and  thunder-rollers  of  opaque 
leaden  smoke  that  darkened  the  air  and  hung 
low  like  a  storm-cloud  over  the  streets.  The 
sheep  thought  that  they  recognized  the  fuming 

380 


Wolly 


ition — and 
was  rarely 
im  with  an 

and  wisest 
vain. 

any  greater 
sum  of  five 
energy  and 
service  of  a 
tier,  the  real 
I  when  this 

neighboring 
lis  flock  by 
I  markets,  of 

Wully's  was 

r 

iberland  was 
le  sheep  were 
ied  safely  in 
factory  chim- 
lay  and  belch- 
Icrs  of  opaque 
air  and  hung 
streets.    The 
ed  the  fuming 


dun  of  an  unusually  heavy  Cheviot  storm. 
They  became  alarmed,  and  in  spite  of  their 
keepers  stampeded  through  the  town  in  374 
different  directions. 

Robin  was  vexed  to  the  inmost  recesses  of 
his  tiny  soul.  He  stared  stupidly  after  the 
sheep  for  half  a  minute,  then  gave  the  order, 
«Wully,  fetch  them  in."  After  this  mental 
effort  he  sat  down,  lit  his  pipe,  and  taking  out 
his  knitting  began  work  on  a  half-finished 
sock. 

To  WuUy  the  voice  of  Robin  was  the  voice 
of  God.  Away  he  ran  in  374  different  direc* 
tions,  and  headed  off  and  rounded  up  the  374 
different  wanderers,  and  brought  them  back  to 
the  ferry-house  before  Robin,  who  was  stolidly 
watching  the  process,  had  toed  off  his  sock. 

Finally  WuUy — not  Robin — ^gave  the  sign 
that  all  were  in.  The  old  shepherd  proceeded 
to  count  them— 370,  371,  372,  373. 

"WuUy,"  he  said  reproachfully,  "  thar  no' 
a'  here.  Thur's  anither."  And  Wully,  stung 
with  shame,  bounded  off  to  scour  the  whole  city 
for  the  missing  one.  He  was  not  long  gone 
when  a  small  boy  pointed  out  to  Robin  that 


WuIIy 

Ihe  dieep  wore  all  there,  the  whole  374.  Non 
Robin  was  in  a  quandary.  His  order  was  to 
hasten  on  to  Yorkshire,  and  yet  he  knew  that 
Wully's  pride  would  prevent  his  coming  back 
without  another  sheep,  even  if  he  had  to  stetd 
k.  Such  things  had  happened  before,  and  re- 
•olted  in  embarrassing  complications.  What 
should  he  do  ?  There  was  five  shillings  a  week 
at  stake.  WuUy  was  a  good  dog,  it  was  a 
pity  to  lose  him,  but  then,  his  orders  from  the 
master;  and  again,  if  Wully  stole  an  extra  sheep 
to  make  up  the  number,  then  what—- in  a  for« 
eign  land  too  ?  He  decided  to  abandon  Wully, 
and  push  on  alone  with  the  sheep.  And  hoT 
be  fared  no  one  knows  or  cares. 

Meanwhile,  Wully  careered  through  miles  o. 
streets  hunting  in  vain  for  his  lost  sheep.  All 
day  he  searched,  and  at  night,  famished  and 
worn  out,  he  sneaked  shamefacedly  back  to  the 
ferry,  only  to  find  that  master  and  sheep  had 
gone.  His  sorrow  was  pitiful  to  see.  He  ran 
about  whimpering,  then  took  the  ferryboat 
across  to  the  other  side,  and  searched  every- 
where for  Robin.  He  returned  to  South 
Shields  and  searched  there,  and  spent  the  rest 


4.  Non 
T  was  to 
Lnew  that 
ling  back 
1  to  steal 
i,  and  re- 
ts. What 
igs  a  week 

it  was  a 
I  from  the 
>xtra  sheep 
-in  a  for- 
ion  Wully, 

And  hoT 

;h  miles  o. 
Keep.  All 
lished  and 
)ack  to  the 
sheep  had 
He  ran 

ferryboat 
hed  every- 

to    South 
at  the  rest 


of  the  night  teeking  for  his  wretched  idoL 
The  next  day  he  continued  his  search,  he 
crossed  and  recrossed  the  river  many  times. 
He  watched  and  smelt  everyone  that  came  over, 
and  with  significant  shrewdness  he  sought  un- 
ceasingly in  the  neighboring  taverns  for  his 
master.  The  next  day  he  set  to  work  system^ 
atically  to  smell  everyone  that  might  cross  the 
ferry. 

The  ferry  makes  fifty  trips  a  day,  with  an 
average  of  one  hundred  persons  a  trip,  yet  never 
once  did  Wully  fail  to  be  on  the  gang-plank 
and  smell  every  pair  of  legs  that  crossed — 5,000 
pairs,  10,000  legs  that  day  did  Wully  examine 
after  his  own  fashion.  And  the  next  day,  and 
the  next,  and  all  the  week  he  kept  his  post,  and 
seemed  indifferent  to  feeding  himself.  Soon 
starvation  and  worry  began  to  tell  on  him. 
He  grew  thin  and  ill-tempered.  No  one  could 
touch  him,  and  any  attempt  to  interfere  with 
his  daily  occupation  of  leg-smelling  roused  him 
to  desperation. 

Day  after  day,  week  after  week  Wully 
watched  and  waited  for  his  master,  who  never 
came.    The    ferry    men    learned    to   lespect 


m 


\. 


WttUy 


WuIIy's  fidelity.  At  first  he  scorned  theii 
proffered  food  and  shelter,  and  lived  no  one 
knew  how,  but  starved  to  it  at  last,  he  ac< 
cepted  the  gifts  and  learned  to  tolerate  the 
givers.  Although  embittered  a^iinst  the  world 
his  heart  was  true  to  his  worthlt  s  master 

Foiu-teen  months  afterward  I  made  his  ac 
quaintance.    He  was  still  on  rigid  duty  at  his 
post.    He  had  regained  his  good  locks     His 
bright,  keen  face  set  off  by  his  white  ruff  and 
pricked  ears  made  a  dog  to  catch  the  eye  any 
where.     But  he  gave  me  no  second  glance, 
once  he  foimd  my  legs  were  not  those  he 
sought,  and  in  spite  of  my  friendly  overtures 
during  the  ten  months  following  that  he  con 
tinued  his  watch,  I  got  no  farther  into  his  con- 
fidence than  any  other  stranger. 

For  two  whole  years  did  this  devoted  creat- 
ure attend  that  ferry.  There  was  only  oni 
thing  to  prevent  him  going  home  to  the  hills, 
not  the  distance  nor  the  chance  of  getting  lost, 
but  the  conviction  that  Robin,  the  godlike 
Robin,  wished  him  to  s:ay  by  the  ferry;  and 
he  stayed 

But  he  crossed  the  water  as  often  as  he  felt 
384 


(MlWHl 


ned  theU 
ed  no  one 
,st,  he  ac 
jlerate  the 
the  world 
ister 

ide  his  ac 
duty  at  his 
locks     His 
ite  rufi  and 
he  eye  any 
ond  glance, 
)t  those  he 
ly  overtures 
;hat  he  con 
nto  his  con 

;voted  creat 

as  only  ont 

to  the  hills, 

getting  lost, 

the  godlike 

J  ferry;  and 

en  as  he  felt 


i;  would  serve  Us  purpose.  The  fare  for  a  dog 
was  one  peni^y,  and  it  was  calculated  that  Wully 
)wed  the  company  hundreds  ol  pounds  before 
he  gave  up  his  quest.  He  never  failed  to  sense 
every  pair  of  nethers  that  crossed  the  gang> 
plank— 6,000,000  legs  by  computation  had 
been  pronounced  upon  by  this  expert.  But  all 
\o  no  piirpose.  His  imswerving  fidelity  never 
faltered,  though  his  temper  was  obviously  sour- 
ing under  the  long  strain. 

We  had  never  heard  what  became  of  Robin, 
but  one  day  a  sturdy  drover  strode  down  the 
ferry-slip  and  Wully  mechanically  assaying  the 
new  personality,  suddenly  started,  his  mane 
bristled,  he  trembled,  a  low  growl  escaped 
him,  and  he  fixed  his  every  sense  on  the  drover. 

One  of  the  ferry  hands  not  understanding, 
called  to  the  stranger,  "Hoot  mon,  ye  maunna 
hort  oor  dawg." 

"Whaes  hortin  'im,  ye  fule;  he  is  mair  like 
to  hort  me."  But  further  explanation  was 
not  necessary.  WuUy's  manner  had  wholly 
cnanged.  He  fawned  on  the  dr?ver,  and  his 
tail  was  wagging  violently  for  the  first  time  in 
years. 


if  ■  M 


11 


i 


WttUy 

A  few  words  made  it  all  clear.  Dorley,  the 
drover,  had  known  Robin  very  well,  and  the 
mittens  and  comforter  he  wore  were  of  Robin's 
own  make  and  had  once  been  part  of  his  ward- 
robe. WuUy  recognized  the  traces  of  his  mas* 
ter,  and  despairing  of  any  nearer  approach  to  his 
lost  idol,  he  abandoned  his  post  at  the  ferry  and 
plainly  announced  his  intention  of  sticking  to 
the  owner  of  the  mittens,  and  Dorley  was  well- 
plea^  to  take  Wully  along  to  his  home  among 
the  hills  of  Derbyshire,  where  he  became  once 
more  a  sheep-dog  in  charge  of  a  flock. 

II 


Monsaldale  is  one  of  the  best-known  valleys 
in  Derbyshire.  Tbe  Pig  and  Whistle  is  its 
single  but  celebraU:d  inn,  and  Jo  Greatorex,  the 
landlord,  is  a  shrewd  and  stiu-dy  Yorkshireman. 
Nature  meant  him  fjr  a  frontiersman,  bu^  cir- 
cumstances made  him  an  innkeeper  and  his  in- 
born tastes  made  him  a — well,  never  mind; 
there  was  a  great  deal  of  poaching  done  in  that 
country. 

Wully's  new  home  wa<^  on  the  upland  east  of 
286 


orley,  the 
i,  and  the 
)f  Robin's 
his  ward- 
•f  his  nua- 
Mch  to  his 
B  ferry  and 
{ticking  to 
V  was  well* 
ome  among 
ecame  once 


lowa  valleys 
hisUe  is  its 
reatorex,  the 
irksWreman. 
lan,  bu'  cir- 
and  his  in- 
lever  mind; 
done  in  that 

)land  east  of 


'■  'p1 


Once  more  a  sheep-dog  in  charge  of  a  flock. 


the 


WoIIy 

^ae  valley  above  )o's  inn,  and  that  fact  was  not 
Tithout  weight  in  bringing  me  to  Monsaldaie. 
His  master,  Dor  ley,  farmed  in  a  small  way  on 
the  lowland,  and  on  the  moors  had  a  large 
number  of  sheep.  These  Wully  guarded  with 
his  old-time  sagacity,  watching  them  while  they 
fed  and  bringing  them  to  the  fold  at  night.  He 
was  reserved  and  preoccupied  for  a  dog,  and 
lather  too  ready  to  show  his  teeth  to  strangers, 
but  he  was  so  unremitting  in  his  attention  to 
his  flock  that  Dorley  did  n^ :  lose  a  lamb  that 
year,  although  the  neighboring  farmers  paid  the 
nsual  tribute  to  eagles  and  to  foxes. 

The  dales  are  poor  fox-hunting  country  at 
best.  The  rocky  ridges,  high  stone  walls,  and 
precipices  are  too  numerous  to  please  the  riders, 
and  the  final  retreats  in  the  rocks  are  so  plenti- 
iiil  that  it  was  a  marvel  the  foxes  did  not  over- 
ran Monsaldaie.  But  they  didn't.  There  had 
Deen  but  little  reason  for  complaint  until  the 
year  1881,  when  a  sly  old  fox  quartered  him- 
Kit  on  the  fat  parish,  like  a  mouse  inside  a 
cheese,  and  laughed  equally  at  the  hounds  of 
the  huntsmen  and  the  lurchers  of  the  farmers. 
^e  was  severe!  times  run  by  the  Peak  houndtt 
•80 


m 


Wolly 

and  escaped  by  making  for  the  Devil's  Hole. 
Once  in  this  gorge,  where  the  cracks  in  the 
rocks  extend  unknown  distances,  he  was  safe. 
The  country  folk  began  to  see  something  more 
than  chance  in  the  fact  that  he  always  escaped 
at  the  Devil's  Hole,  and  when  one  of  the 
hounds  who  nearly  caught  this  Devil's  Fox 
soon  after  went  mad,  it  removed  all  doubt  ar 
to  the  spiritual  paternity  of  said  fox. 

He  continued  his  career  of  rapine,  making 
audacious  raids  and  hair-breadth  escapes,  and 
finally  began,  as  do  many  old  foxes,  to  kill  from 
a  mania  for  slaughter.  Thus  it  was  that  Digby 
lost  ten  lambs  in  one  night.  Carroll  lost  seven 
the  next  night.  Later,  the  vicarage  duck-pond 
was  wholly  devastated,  and  scarcely  a  night 
passed  but  someone  in  the  region  had  to  report 
a  carnage  of  poultry,  lambs  or  sheep,  and,  finally 
even  calves. 

Of  course  all  the  slaughter  was  attributed  to 
this  one  fox  of  the  Devil's  Hole.  It  was  known 
only  that  he  was  a  very  large  fox,  at  least  one 
that  made  a  very  large  track.  He  never  was 
clearly  seen,  even  by  the  huntsmen.  And  it 
«ras  noticed  that  Thunder  and  Bell,  the  stanch 

290 


Wofly 


-il's  Hole 
:Vs  in  the 
i  was  safe, 
thing  more 
ys  escaped 
ane  of  the 
►evil's  Fox 
I  doubt  at 

ine,  making 
•scapes,  and 
to  kill  from 
i  that  Digbjr 
Ulost  seven 
;e  duck-pond 
:ely  a  night 
lad  to  report 
I,  and,  finally 

[attributed  to 
t  was  known 
at  least  one 
e  never  was 
en.  And  it 
i.  the  stanch 


est  iKwndi  in  the  pack,  had  refiaed  to  tongoB  m 
even  to  follow  the  trail  when  he  was  hunted. 

His  reputation  for  madness  sufficed  to  makt 
the  master  of  the  Peak  hounds  avoid  the  neigh- 
borhood. The  farmers  in  Monsaldale,  led  bf 
Jo,  agreed  among  themselves  that  if  it  would 
only  come  on  i  snow,  they  would  assemble  and 
beat  the  whole  country,  and  in  defiance  of  all 
rules  of  the  hunt,  get  rid  of  the  <  daft '  fox  in 
any  way  they  could.  But  the  snow  did  not 
come,  and  the  red-haired  gentleman  lived  hit 
life.  Notwithstanding  his  madness,  he  did  not 
lack  method.  He  never  came  two  successive 
nights  to  the  same  farm.  He  never  ate  where 
he  killed,  and  he  never  left  a  track  that  betrayed 
his  retreat.  He  usually  finished  up  his  night*f 
trail  on  the  turf,  or  on  a  public  highway. 

Once  I  saw  him.  I  was  walking  to  Monsal- 
dale from  Bakewell  late  one  night  during  a 
heavy  storm,  and  as  I  turned  the  corner  of 
Stead's  sheep-fold  there  was  a  vivid  flash  of  light- 
ning.  By  its  light,  there  was  fixed  on  my  ret- 
ina a  picture  that  made  me  start.  Sitting  on 
his  haunches  by  the  roadside,  twenty  yards 
•way,  was  a  very  large  fox  gazing  at  me  with 

391 


ill 


Wolly 

mti^fpuaat  efm,  and  licking  his  massle  in  n  sug 
gestive  manner.  AU  this  I  saw,  but  no  more, 
and  might  have  forgotten  it,  or  thought  m>'seH 
mistaken,  but  the  next  morning,  in  that  very 
fold,  were  found  the  bodies  of  twenty-three 
lambs  and  sheep,  and  the  unmistakable  signs 
that  brought  home  the  crime  to  the  well-known 
marauder. 

There  was  only  one  man  who  escaped,  and 
that  was  Dorley.  This  was  the  more  remarka- 
ble because  he  lived  in  the  centre  of  the  region 
raided,  and  within  one  mile  of  the  Devil's  Hole. 
Faithful  Wully  proved  himself  worth  all  the 
dogs  in  the  neighborhood.  Night  after  night 
he  brought  in  the  sheep,  and  never  one  was 
missing.  The  Mad  Fox  might  prowl  about  titt 
Dorley  homestead  if  he  wished,  but  Wully, 
shrewd,  brave,  active  Wully  was  more  ihan  a 
match  for  him,  and  not  only  saved  his  master's 
flock,  but  himself  escaped  with  a  whole  skm. 
Everyone  entertained  a  profound  respect  fo* 
him,  and  he  might  have  been  a  popular  pet  bui 
for  his  i»mper  which,  never  genial,  becanx 
more  and  more  crabbed.  He  seemed  to  likt 
Dorley,  and  Huldah,  Dorley 's  eldest  daughter. 

2Q2 


ut  no  more, 
)ught  my-seli 
in  that  very 
twenty-three 
akable  signs 
;  well-known 

escaped,  and 
lore  remarka- 
of  the  region 
Devil's  Hole, 
vorth  all  the 
It  after  night 
lever  one  wsa 
owl  about  thi 
,  but  Wuily, 
more  than  a 
d  his  master's 
a  whole  skin, 
respect  fo* 
opular  pet  bu» 
enial,   becanr*. 
eemed  to  likt 
dest  daughter. 


Wully 

«  shrewd,  handsome,  young  woman,  who,  ife 
the  capacity  of  general  manager  of  the  home; 
was  VVully's  special  guardian.  The  other  mem- 
bers of  Dorley's  family  Wully  learned  to  toler- 
ate, but  the  rest  of  the  world,  men  and  dogs,  h« 
seemed  to  hate. 

His  uncanny  disposition  was  well  shorn  in 
the  last  meeting  I  had  with  him.  I  was  walk- 
ing on  a  pathway  across  the  moor  behind  Dor- 
Sey's  house.  Wully  was  lying  on  the  doorstep. 
As  I  drew  near  he  arose,  and  without  appear- 
ing to  see  me  trotted  toward  my  pathway  and 
placed  himself  across  it  about  ten  yards  ahead  of 
me.  There  he  stood  silently  and  intently  regard- 
ing the  distant  moor,  his  slightly  bristling  mane 
the  only  sign  that  he  had  not  been  suddenly 
turned  to  stone.  H'3  did  not  stir  as  I  came  up, 
ana  not  wishing  to  quarrel,  I  stepped  around 
past  nis  nose  and  walked  on.  Wully  at  once 
(eit  his  position  and  in  the  same  eerie  silence 
aotted  on  some  twenty  feet  and  again  stood 
tu:ross  tne  pathway.  Once  more  I  came  up 
»aa.  scepping  into  the  grass,  brushed  past  his 
nos<;.  instantly,  but  without  a  sound,  he  seized 
my  left  heei.  I  kicked  out  with  the  other  foot 

99$ 


i    ! 


;  ! 


WuIIy  » 

but  he  escaped.  Not  having  a  stick,  I  flung  a 
large  stone  at  him.  He  leaped  forwaru  and  the 
stone  struck  him  in  the  ham,  bowling  him  over 
into  a  ditch.  He  gasped  out  a  savage  growl 
as  he  fell,  but  scrambled  out  of  the  ditch  and 
limped  away  in  silence. 

Yet  sullen  and  ferocious  as  WuUy  was  to  the 
world,  he  was  always  gentle  with  Dorley's 
sheep.  Many  were  the  tales  of  rescues  told  of 
him.  Many  a  poor  lamb  that  had  fallen  into 
a  pond  or  hole  would  have  perished  but  for  his 
timely  and  sagacious  aid,  many  a  far-weltered 
ewe  did  he  turn  right  side  up;  while  his  keen 
eye  discerned  and  his  fierce  courage  baffled 
every  eagle  that  had  appeared  on  the  moor  in 
his  time. 

ni 

The  Monsaldale  farmers  were  still  paymg 
their  nightly  tribute  to  the  Mad  Fox,  when  the 
snow  came,  late  in  December.  Poor  W^dow 
Gelt  lost  her  entire  flock  of  twenty  sheep,  and 
the  fiery  cross  went  forth  early  in  the  morning. 
With  guns  unconcealed  the  burly  farmers  set 
out  to  follow  to  the  finish  the  tell-tale  tracks  in 

294 


k,  I  fiung  a 
'aru  and  the 
Qg  him  over 
avage  growl 
le  ditch  and 

y  was  to  the 
ith  Dorley's 
scues  told  of 
d  fallen  into 
d  but  for  his 

far-weltered 
[lile  his  keen 
irage  baffled 

the  moor  in 


still  paying 
ox,  when  the 
Poor  Wdow 
y  sheep,  and 
the  morning. 

farmers  set 
tale  tracks  in 


WuUy 

the  snow,  those  of  a  very  large  fox,  imdoubtedly 
die  multo-murderous  villain.  For  awhile  the 
trail  was  clear  enough,  then  it  came  to  the  river 
and  the  habitual  cvuming  of  the  animal  was 
shown.  He  reached  the  water  at  a  long  angle 
pointing  down  stream  and  jumped  into  the 
shallow,  unfrozen  current.  But  at  the  other 
side  there  was  no  track  leading  out,  and  it  was 
only  after  long  searching  that,  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  higher  up  the  stream,  they  found  where 
he  had  come  out.  The  track  then  ran  to  the 
top  of  Henley's  high  stone  wall,  where  there 
was  no  snow  left  to  tell  tales.  But  the  patient 
hunters  persevered.  When  it  crossed  the  smooth 
snow  from  the  wall  to  the  high  road  there  was 
a  difference  of  opinion.  Some  claimed  that  the 
track  went  up,  others  down  the  road.  But  Jo 
settled  it,  and  after  another  long  search  they 
found  where  apparently  the  same  trail,  though 
some  said  a  larger  one  had  left  the  road  to  enter 
a  sheep-fold,  and  leaving  this  without  harming 
the  occupants,  the  track- maker  had  stepped  in 
the  footmarks  of  a  countryman,  thereby  getting 
to  the  moor  road,  along  which  he  had  trotted 
straight  to  Dorley's  farm. 


J**. 


• 

• 
• 


" 


1  m 


!    1 1 
■i    I 


*i 


WttUy 


That  day  the  sheep  were  kept  in  on  accoun} 
of  the  snow  and  Wullv,  without  his  usual  occupa< 
tion,  was  lying  on  some  planks  in  the  sun.  M 
the  hunters  drew  near  the  house,  he  growled 
savagely  and  sneaked  around  to  where  the  sheep 
were.  Jo  Greatorex  walked  up  to  where  Wul- 
ly  had  crossed  the  fresh  snow,  gave  a  glance, 
looked  dumbfounded,  then  pointing  to  the  re- 
treating sheep-dog,  he  said,  with  emphasis : 

**  Lads,  we're  off  the  track  of  the  Fox.  But 
there's  the  killer  of  the  Widder's  yowes." 

Some  agreed  with  Jo,  others  recalled  the 
doubt  in  the  trail  and  were  for  going  back  to 
make  a  fresh  follow.  At  this  juncture,  Dorley 
himself  came  out  of  the  house. 

"Tom,"  said  Jo,  "that  dog  o*  thine  Vs 
killed  twenty  of  Widder  Celt's  sheep,  last 
night.  An'  ah  fur  one  don't  believe  as  its  'is 
first  kiUin'." 

"  Why,  mon,  thou  art  crazy,"  said  Tom, 
**Ah  never  'ad  a  better  sheep-dog — 'e  fair 
loves  the  sheep." 

"  Aye  I  We's  seen  summat  o'  that  in  las' 
night's  work,"  replied  Jo. 

In  vain  the  company  related  the  history  of 
296 


WoUy 


I  on  account 
isual  occupa< 
the  sun.    As 
,  he  growled 
lere  the  sheep 
>  where  Wul- 
ive  a  glance, 
ng  to  the  re- 
emphasis  : 
he  Fox.    But 
jrowes." 
recalled  the 
roing  back  to 
icture,  Dorley 

;  o*  thine  'i's 
s  sheep,  last 
;lieve  as  its  Ms 

,"  said  Tom, 
)-dog— 'e  fair 

)»  that  in  las' 

the  history  of 


tne  morning.  Tom  swore  that  it  was  nothing 
but  a  jealous  conspiracy  to  rob  him  of  Wully. 

"  Wully  sleeps  i'  the  kitchen  every  night. 
Never  is  oot  till  he's  let  to  bide  wi'  the  yowes. 
Why,  mon,  he's  wi'  oor  sheep  the  year  round, 
and  never  a  hoof  have  ah  lost." 

Tom  became  much  excited  over  this  abomin- 
able attempt  against  Wully's  reputation  and  life. 
Jo  and  his  partisans  got  equally  angry,  and  it 
was  a  wise  suggestion  of  Huldah's  that  quieted 
them. 

«« Feyther,"  said  she,  *'  ah'll  sleep  i'  the 
kitchen  the  night.  If  Wully  'as  ae  way  of  get- 
tin'  oot  ah'll  see  it,  an'  if  he's  no  oot  an* 
bleep's  killed  on  the  country-side,  we'll  ha' 
proof  it's  na  Wully." 

That  night  Huldah  stretched  herself  on  the 
settee  and  Wully  slept  as  usual  underneath  the 
table.  As  night  wore  on  the  dog  became  rest- 
less. He  turned  on  his  bed  and  once  or  twice 
got  up,  stretched,  looked  at  Huldah  and  lay 
down  again.  About  two  o'clock  he  seemed  no 
ionger  able  to  resist  some  strange  impulse.  He 
arose  quietly,  looked  toward  the  low  window, 
then  at  the  motionless  girL      Huldah  lay  stiB 

m 


m 


WoUy 


ii 


I*    I 


-sua  oreathed  as  though  sleeping.  Wully  ilowly 
came  near  and  sniffed  and  breathed  his  doggy 
breath  in  her  face.  She  made  no  move.  He 
nudged  her  gently  with  his  uose.  Then,  with 
his  sharp  ears  forward  and  his  head  on  one  side 
he  studied  her  calm  face.  Still  no  sign.  He 
walked  quietly  to  the  window,  mounted  the 
table  without  noise,  placed  his  nose  under  the 
•ash-bar  and  raised  the  light  frame  until  he 
could  put  one  paw  underneath.  Then  chang- 
ing, he  put  his  nose  under  the  sash  and  raised 
it  high  enough  to  slip  out,  easing  down  the 
irame  finally  .m  his  rump  and  tail  with  an 
adroitness  that  old  of  long  practice.  Then  he 
disappeared  into  the  darkness. 

From  her  couch  Huldah  watched  in  amaze- 
ment. After  waiting  for  some  time  to  make 
sure  that  he  was  gone,  she  arose,  intending  to 
call  her  father  at  once,  but  on  second  thought 
she  decided  to  await  more  conclusive  proof. 
She  peered  into  the  darkness,  but  no  sign  of 
Wully  was  to  be  seen.  She  put  more  wood  on 
the  fire,  and  lay  down  again.  I'or  over  an 
hour  she  lay  wide  awake  listening  to  the  kitchen 
dock,  and  starting  at  each  trifling  sound,  and 

298 


ally  i\owly 
his  dcggy 
nove.     He 
Then,  with 
on  one  side 
I  sign.     He 
lounted  the 
«  under  the 
ne  until  he 
rhen  chang- 
h  and  raised 
ig  down  the 
tail  with  an 
e.     Then  he 

ed  in  amaze- 
ime  to  make 
intending  to 
cond  thought 
oUisive  proof, 
ut  no  sign  of 
:iore  wood  on 

I'or  over  an 
to  the  kitchen 

g  sound,  and 


r.i    n 


:t| 


Wully  studied  her  calm  face. 


loi 


shd 
bell 


WttUy 

wondering  what  the  dog  was  doing.  Coo!d  it 
be  possible  that  he  had  really  killed  the  widow's 
sheep?  Then  the  recollection  of  his  gentleness 
(o  their  own  sheep  came,  and  completed  her 
perplexity. 

Another  hour  slowly  tic'i-tocked.  She  heard 
a  slight  sound  at  the  window  that  made  her 
heart  jump.  The  scratching  soimd  was  soon 
followed  by  the  lifting  of  the  sash,  and  in  a 
short  time  Wully  was  back  in  the  kitchen  with 
the  window  closed  behind  him. 

By  the  flickering  fire-light  Huldah  could  see 
a  strange,  wild  gleam  in  his  eye,  and  his  jaws 
and  snowy  breast  were  dashed  with  fresh  blood. 
The  dog  ceased  his  slight  panting  as  he  scrutin- 
ized the  girl.  Then,  as  she  did  not  move,  he 
lay  down,  and  began  to  lick  his  paws  and  muz- 
zle, growling  lowly  once  or  twice  as  though  at 
the  remembrance  of  some  recent  occurrence. 

Huldah  had  seen  enough.  There  could  no 
longer  be  any  doubt  that  Jo  was  right  and  more 
—  a  new  thought  flashed  into  her  quick  brain, 
she  realized  that  the  weird  fox  of  Monsal  was 
before  her.  Raising  herself,  she  looked  straight 
at  Wully,  and  exclaimed: 

301 


<  ! 


i 


:if 


%uny 


"WoUy !  WuUyl  ao  ifs  •'  tnis— oh,  Wully, 
ye  terrible  tuute."  • 

Her  voice  was  fiercely  reproachful,  it  rang  in 
die  quiet  kitchen,  and  Wully  recoiled  as  though 
ahoL  He  gave  a  desperate  glance  toward  the 
closed  window.  His  eye  gleamed,  and  his  mane 
bristled.  But  he  cowered  under  her  gaze,  and 
grovelled  on  the  floor  as  though  begging  for 
mercy.  Slowly  he  crawled  nearer  and  nearer, 
as  if  to  lick  her  feet,  until  quite  close,  then, 
with  the  fury  of  a  tiger,  but  without  a  sound, 
he  sprang  for  her  throat. 

The  girl  was  taken  unawares,  but  she  threw 
np  her  arm  in  time,  and  WuUy's  long,  gleaminp 
tusks  sank  into  her  flesh,  and  grated  on  the  bone. 

«'Helpl  helpl  feytherl  feytherl"  sht 
shrieked. 

Wully  was  a  light  weight,  and  for  a  moment 
iJie  flung  him  off.  But  there  could  be  no  mis- 
taicing  his  purpose.  The  game  was  up,  it  was 
his  life  or  hers  now. 

"  Feyther !  feyther !  "  she  screamed,  as  the 
yellow  fury,  striving  to  kill  her,  bit  and  tore 
the  unprotected  hands  that  had  so  often  fed 
him. 

30a 


WuUy 


In  vain  she  fought  to  hold  him  off*  he  would 
loon  have  had  her  by  the  throat,  when  in  rushed 
Dorley. 

Straight  at  him,  now  in  the  same  horrid  sil- 
ence sprang  Wully,  and  savagely  tore  him  again 
and  again  before  a  deadly  blow  from  the  fagot- 
hook  disabled  him,  dashing  him,  gasping  and 
writhing,  on  the  stone  floor,  desperate,  and  done 
for,  but  game  and  defiant  to  the  last.  Another 
quick  blow  scattered  his  brains  on  the  hearth- 
stone, where  so  long  he  had  been  a  faithful 
and  honored  retainer — and  Wully,  bright,  fierce, 
trusty,  treacherous  Wully,  quivered  a  moment, 
then  straightened  out,  and  lay  forever  stilL 


I! 


I 

I) 


for  a  moment 
d  be  no  mis- 
iras  up,  it  was 

;amed.  as  the 
bit  and  tore 
so  often  fed 


303 


ffm 


Redftsff 

The  Storf  of  the 

Don  Valkjr  Partridge 


1 


Redruff 
The  Story  of  the  Don  Valley  Partridge 


OWN  the  wooded  slope  of  Taylor's 
Hill  the  Mother  Partridge  led  her 
brood;  down  toward  the  crystal 
brook  that  by  some  strange  whim 
was  called  Mud  Creek.  Her  little 
ones  were  one  day  old  but  already 
quick  on  foot,  and  she  was  taking  them  for  the 
first  time  to  drink. 

She  walked  slowly,  crouching  low  as  she  went, 
for  the  woods  were  full  of  enemies.  She  was 
uttering  a  soft  little  cluck  in  her  throat,  a  call 
to  the  little  balls  of  mottled  down  that  on  their 
tiny  pink  legs  came  toddling  after,  and  peeping 
softly  and  plaintively  if  left  even  a  few  inches 

307 


vj 


\si 


Hi 


RedniH 


behind,  and  seeming  so  fragile  they  made  the 
very  chicadees  look  big  and  coarse.  There 
were  twelve  of  them,  but  Mother  Grouse 
watched  them  all,  and  she  watched  every  bush 
and  tree  and  thicket,  and  the  whole  woods  and 
the  sky  itself.  Always  for  enemies  she  seemed 
seeking — friends  were  too  scarce  to  be  looked 
for — and  an  enemy  she  found.  Away  across 
the  level  beaver  meadow  was  a  great  brute  of  a 
fox.  He  was  coming  their  way,  and  in  a  few 
moments  would  surely  wind  them  or  strike  their 
trail.     There  was  no  time  to  lose. 

*Krrr/  Krrrt*  (Hide I  Hide!)  cried  the 
mother  in  a  low  firm  voice,  and  the  little  bits 
of  things,  scarcely  bigger  than  acorns  and  but  a 
day  old,  scattered  far  (a  few  inches)  apart  to 
hide.  One  dived  under  a  leaf,  another  between 
two  roots,  a  third  crawled  into  a  curl  of  birch- 
bark,  a  fourth  into  a  hole,  and  so  on,  till  all 
were  hidden  but  one  who  could  find  no  cover, 
so  squatted  on  a  broad  yellow  chip  and  lay  very 
flat,  and  closed  his  eyes  very  tight,  sure  that 
now  he  was  safe  from  being  seen.  They  ceased 
their  frightened  peeping  and  all  was  still. 

Mother  Partridge  flew  straight  toward  the 
308 


RedtuH 


hey  made  the 
>arse.  There 
jther  Grouse 
ed  every  bush 
ale  woods  and 
es  she  seemed 

to  be  looked 

Away  across 

reat  brute  of  a 

and  in  a  few 
I  or  strike  their 

ft 

del)  cried  the 
,  the  little  bits 
corns  and  but  a 
iches)  apart  to 
mother  between 
a  oirl  of  birch- 
l  so  on,  till  all 
I  find  no  cover, 
lip  and  lay  very 
tight,  sure  that 
1.    They  ceased 
was  still, 
ght  toward  the 


4readed  beast,  alighted  fearlessly  a  few  yanb  to 
one  side  of  him,  and  then  flung  herself  on  the 
(i^ound,  flopping  as  though  winged  and  lame — 
oh,  so  dreadfully  lame — and  whining  like  a  dis- 
tressed puppy.  Was  she  begging  for  mercy — 
mercy  from  a  bloodthirsty,  cruel  fox  ?  Oh,  dear 
no  I  She  was  no  fool.  One  often  hears  of  the 
cunning  of  the  fox.  Wait  and  see  what  a  fool  he 
b  compared  with  a  mother-partridge.  Elated 
at  the  prize  so  suddenly  within  his  reach,  the 
fox  turned  with  a  dash  and  caught — at  least, 
no,  he  didn't  quite  catch  the  bird ;  she  flopped 
by  chance  just  a  foot  out  of  reach.  He  fol- 
lowed with  another  jump  and  would  have  seized 
her  this  time  surely,  but  somehow  a  sapling 
came  just  between,  and  the  partridge  dragged 
herself  awkwardly  away  and  under  a  log,  but 
the  great  brute  snapped  his  jaws  and  bounded 
over  the  log,  while  she,  seeming  a  trifle  lesa 
iame,  made  another  clumsy  forward  spring  and 
tumbled  down  a  bank,  and  Reynard,  keenly 
following,  almost  caught  her  tail,  but,  oddly 
enough,  fast  as  he  went  and  leaped,  she  still 
seemed  just  a  trifle  faster.  It  was  most  extraor- 
dinaiy.    A   winged  partridge  and  he,  Rey- 


-;    I 


i( 


li 


Rcdfiitt 

nurd,  the  Swift-foot,  had  not  caught  her  in  ftve 
minutes'  racing.  It  was  really  shameful.  But 
the  partridge  seemed  to  gain  strength  as  the  fox 
put  forth  his,  and  after  a  quarter  of  a  mile  race, 
racing  that  was  somehow  all  away  from  Taylor's 
Hill,  the  bird  got  unaccountably  quite  well,  and, 
rising  with  a  derisive  whirr,  flew  ofT  through  the 
woods  leaving  the  fox  utterly  dumfounded  to 
realize  that  he  had  been  made  a  fool  of,  and, 
worst  of  all,  he  now  remembered  that  thit  was 
not  the  first  time  he  had  been  served  this  very 
trick,  though  he  never  knew  the  reason  for  it. 

Meanwhile  Mother  Partridge  skimmed  in  a 
great  circle  and  came  by  a  roundabout  way 
back  to  the  little  fuzz-balls  she  had  left  hidden 
in  the  woods. 

With  a  wild  bird's  keen  memory  for  places, 
she  went  to  the  very  grass-blade  she  last 
trod  on,  and  stood  for  a  moment  fondly  to  ad- 
mire the  perfect  stillness  of  her  children.  Even 
at  her  step  not  one  had  stirred,  and  the  little 
fellow  on  the  chip,  not  so  very  badly  concealed 
after  all,  had  not  budged,  nor  did  he  now  ;  ne 
only  closed  his  eyes  a  tiny  little  bit  harder,  till 
the  mother  said : 

310 


Redruff 


ght  her  in  ftve 
hamefiil.     But 
ngth  as  the  fox 
'  of  a  mile  race, 
f  from  Taylor's 
quite  well,  and, 
off  through  the 
dumfounded  to 
a  fool  of,  and, 
xi  that  this  was 
erved  this  very 
e  reason  for  it. 
e  skimmed  in  a 
roundabout  way 
had  left  hidden 

mory  for  places, 
i-blade  she  last 
nt  fondly  to  ad- 
children.  Even 
1,  and  the  little 
badly  concealed 
did  he  now  ;  ne 
le  bit  harder,  till 


*K'rtetl*  (Come,  children)  and  inttantif 
like  a  fairy  story,  every  hole  gave  up  its  little 
baby-partridge,  and  the  wee  fellow  on  the  chip, 
the  biggest  of  them  all  really,  opened  his  big- 
little  eyes  and  ran  to  the  shelter  of  her  broad 
tail,  with  a  sweet  little  ^peep  peep '  which  an 
enemy  could  not  have  heard  three  feet  away, 
but  which  his  mother  could  noi  have  missed 
thrice  as  far,  and  all  the  other  thimblefuls  of 
down  joined  in,  and  no  doubt  thought  them- 
lelves  dreadfully  noisy,  and  were  proportion- 
ately happy. 

The  sun  was  hot  now.  There  was  an  open 
q)ace  to  cross  on  the  road  to  the  water,  and, 
after  a  careful  lookout  for  enemies,  the  mother 
gathered  the  little  things  under  the  shadow  of 
her  spread  fantail  and  kept  off  all  danger  of 
sunstroke  until  they  reached  the  brier  thicket 
by  the  stream. 

Here  a  cottontail  rabbit  leaped  out  and  gave 
them  a  great  scare.  But  the  flag  of  truce  he 
carried  behind  was  enough.  He  was  an  old 
friend  ;  and  among  other  things  the  little  ones 
learned  that  day  that  Bunny  always  sails  under 
S  fl^  of  truce,  and  lives  up  to  it  too. 


Si'*, 


if 


1  c 


.  I 


S      I 


^M 


Redniff 

And  then  came  the  drink,  the  purest  of  liv- 
ing water,  though  silly  men  bad  called  it  Mud 
Creek. 

At  first  the  little  fellows  didn't  know  how  to 
drink,  but  they  copied  their  mother,  and  soon 
(earned  to  drink  like  her  and  give  thanks  afte>- 
every  sip  There  they  stood  in  a  row  along  ihc 
edge,  twelve  little  brown  and  golden  balls  on 
twenty-four  little  pink-toed,  in-turned  feet,  with 
twelve  sweet  little  golden  heads  gravely  bowing, 
4rinking  and  giving  thanks  like  their  mother i^ 

Then  she  led  them  by  short  stages,  keeping 
tiie  cover,  to  the  far  side  of  the  beaver-meadow, 
where  was  a  great  grassy  dome.  The  mother  had 
made  a  note  of  this  dome  some  time  before.  It 
takes  a  number  of  such  domes  to  raise  a  brood  of 
partridges.  For  this  was  an  ant's  nest.  The 
old  one  stepped  on  top,  looked  about  a  moment, 
then  gave  half  a  dozen  vigorous  rakes  with  her 
claws.  The  friable  ant-hill  was  broken  open, 
and  the  earthen  galleries  scattered  in  ruins  down 
the  slope.  The  ants  swarmed  out  and  quarrelled 
with  each  other  for  lack  of  a  better  plan.  Somt 
ran  aroimd  the  hill  with  vast  energy  and  little 
purpose,  while  a  few  of  the  more  sensible  begax) 

313 


Redruii 


e  ptirest  of  Uv- 
I  called  it  Mud 

't  know  how  to 

other,  and  soon 
rive  thanks  aftc 
a  row  along  the 
golden  balls  on 
turned  feet,  witn 
gravely  bowing, 
B  their  mother  v 
t  stages,  keeping 
beaver-meadow, 
The  mother  had 
;  time  before.    It 
p  raise  a  brood  of 
ant's  nest.     The 
about  a  moment, 
IS  rakes  with  her 
as  broken  open, 
ed  in  ruins  down 
,ut  and  quarrelled 
etter  plan.  Some 
energy  and  little 
re  sensible  begao 


to  cany  dw<xy  I'at  white  eggs.  But  the  oia  par- 
tridge, coming  to  the  little  ones,  picked  up  one 
of  these  juicy-looking  bags  and  clucked  and 
dropped  it,  and  picked  it  up  again  and  again 
and  clucked,  then  swallowed  it.  The  young 
ones  stood  around,  then  one  little  yellow  fel- 
low, the  one  that  sat  on  the  chip,  picked  up  an 
ant-egg,  dropped  it  a  few  times,  then  yielding 
to  a  sudden  impulse,  swallowed  it,  and  so  had 
learned  to  eat.  Within  twenty  minutes  even 
the  nmt  had  learned,  and  a  merry  time  they  had 
scrambling  after  the  delicious  eggs  as  their 
mother  broke  open  more  ant-galleries,  and  sent 
them  and  their  contents  rolling  down  the  bank, 
till  every  little  partridge  had  so  crammed  his 
little  crop  that  he  was  positively  misshapen  and 
could  eat  no  more.  3 

Then  all  went  cautiously  up  the  stream,  and 
on  a  sandy  bank,  well  screened  by  brambles,  they 
lay  for  all  that  afternoon,  and  learned  how  pleas- 
ant it  was  to  feel  the  cool  powdery  dust  running 
between  their  hot  little  toes.  With  their  strong 
bent  for  copying,  they  lay  on  their  sides  like 
their  mother  and  scratched  with  their  tiny  feci 
and  flopped  with  their  wings,  though  they  had 

313 


Redruff 


ft^# 


m 

pi'  U 


'  I'i    i  ^ 


no  wings  to  flop  with,  only  a  little  tag  among 
the  down  on  each  side,  to  show  where  the  wings 
would  come.  That  night  she  took  them  to  a 
dry  thicket  near  by,  and  there  among  the  crisp, 
dead  leaves  that  would  prc/ent  an  enemy's  si- 
lent approach  on  foot,  and  under  the  interlac- 
ing iMiers  that  kept  off  all  foes  of  the  air,  she 
cradled  them  in  their  feather-shingled  nursery 
and  rejoiced  in  the  fulness  of  a  mother's  joy  over 
the  wee  cuddling  things  that  peeped  in  their 
deep  and  snuggled  so  trustfully  against  her  warm 
body. 

The  third  day  the  chicks  were  much  stronger 
on  their  feet.  They  had  no  longer  had  to  go 
around  an  accnn;  they  could  even  scramble  over 
pine-cones,  and  on  the  little  tags  that  marked  the 
places  for  their  wings,  were  now  to  be  seen  blue 
rows  of  fat  blood-quills. 

Their  start  in  life  was  a  good  mother,  good 
legs,  a  few  reliable  instincts,  and  a  germ  of  rea- 
son. It  was  instinct,  that  is,  inherited  habit, 
which  taught  them  to  hide  at  the  word  from  their 

3M 


i  i 


tag  among 
re  the  wings 
I  tbem  to  a 
ag  the  crisp, 
,  enemy's  si- 
the  interlac- 
the  air,  she 
igled  nursery 
her's  joy  over 
eped  in  their 
linst  her  warm 


much  stronger 
vger  had  to  go 
1  scramble  over 
hat  marked  the 
to  be  seen  blue 

i  mother,  good 

[  a  germ  of  rea- 

inherited  habit, 

word  from  theit 


Rearaff 

nother ;  it  was  instinct  that  taught  them  to  follow 
her,  but  it  was  reason  which  made  them  keep 
under  the  shadow  of  her  tail  when  the  sun  was 
smiting  down,  and  from  that  day  reason  entered 
more  and  more  into  their  expanding  lives. 

Next  day  the  blood-quills  had  sprouted  the 
tips  of  feathers.  On  the  next,  the  feathers  were 
well  out,  and  a  week  later  the  whole  family  of 
down-clad  babies  were  strong  on  the  wing. 

And  yet  not  all — poor  little  Runtie  had  been 
sickly  from  the  first.  He  bore  his  half-shell  on 
his  back  for  hours  after  he  came  out ;  he  ran  less 
and  cheeped  more  than  his  brothers,  and  when 
one  evening  at  the  onset  of  a  skunk  the  mother 
gave  the  word  *  JCwi/,  kwit^  (Fly,  fly),  Runtie 
was  left  behind,  and  when  she  gathered  her 
brood  on  the  piney  hill  he  was  missing,  and 
the/  saw  him  no  more. 

Meanwhile,  their  training  had  gone  on.  They 
knew  that  the  finest  grasshoppers  abounded  in 
the  long  grass  by  the  brook ;  they  knew  that  the 
currant-bushes  dropped  fatness  in  the  form  of 
smooth,  green  worms;  they  knew  that  the 
dome  of  an  ant-hill  rising  against  the  distant 
woods  stood  for  a  gamer  of  plenty ;  they  knew 

3IS 


I 


Redfuff 

that  strawberries,  though  not  really  insects,  were 
almost  as  delicious;  they  knew  that  the  huge 
danaid  butterflies  were  good,  safe  game,  if  they 
could  only  catch  them,  and  that  a  slab  of  bark 
dropping  from  the  side  of  a  rotten  log  was  sure 
to  abound  in  good  things  of  many  different 
kinds;  and  they  had  learned,  also,  that  yellow- 
jackets,  mud-wasps,  woolly  worms,  and  hundred- 
leggers  were  better  let  alone. 

It  was  now  July,  the  Moon  ot  Berries.  The 
chicks  had  grown  and  flourished  amazingly 
during  this  last  month,  and  were  now  so  large 
that  in  her  efforts  to  cover  them  the  mother 
was  kept  standing  all  night. 

They  took  their  daily  dust-bath,  but  of  latt 
had  changed  to  another  higher  on  the  hill.  It 
was  one  in  use  by  many  different  birds,  and  at 
first  the  mother  disliked  the  idea  of  such  a  sec- 
ond-hand bath.  But  the  dust  was  of  such  a  fine, 
agreeable  quality,  and  the  children  led  the  way 
with  such  enthusiasm,  that  she  forgot  her  mis- 
trust. 

After  a  fortnight  the  little  ones  began  to 
droop  and  she  herself  did  not  feel  very  well. 
They  were  always  hungry,  and  though  they  atn 

316 


1: 


Redruft 


r  insects,  were 
;hat  the  huge 
game,  if  they 
I  slab  of  bark 
I  log  was  sure 
lany  different 
3,  that  yellow- 
,  and  hundred- 
Berries.    The 
ed  amazingly 
e  now  so  large 
m  the  mother 

h,  bat  of  late 
n  the  hill.  It 
birds,  and  at 
of  such  i\  sec- 
of  such  a  fine, 
;n  led  the  way 
orgot  her  mis- 

mes  began  to 
el  very  well. 
lough  they  at«* 


* 


enormously,  they  one  and  all  grew  thinner  and 
thinner.  The  mother  was  the  last  to  be  affected. 
But  when  it  came,  it  came  as  hard  on  her — • 
ravenous  hunger,  a  feverish  headache,  and  a 
wasting  weakness.  She  never  knew  the  cause. 
She  could  not  know  that  the  dust  of  the  much* 
used  dust-bath,  that  her  true  instinct  taught  her 
to  mistrust  at  first,  and  now  again  to  shun,  was 
sown  with  parasitic  worms,  and  that  all  of  tlie 
family  were  infested. 

No  natural  impulse  is  without  a  purpose. 
The  mother-bird's  knowledge  of  healing  was 
only  to  follow  natural  impulse.  The  eager,  fever* 
ish  craving  for  something,  she  knew  not  what, 
led  her  to  eat,  or  try,  everything  that  looked  eat- 
able and  to  seek  the  coolest  woods.  And  there 
she  found  a  deadly  sumach  laden  with  its  poison 
fruit.  A  month  ago  she  would  have  passed  it 
by,  but  now  she  tried  the  unattractive  berries. 
The  acrid  burning  juice  seemed  to  answer  some 
strange  demand  of  her  body ;  she  ate  and  ate, 
and  all  her  family  joined  in  the  strange  feast  of 
physic.  No  human  doctor  could  have  hit  it 
better;  it  proved  a  biung,  drastic  purge,  the 
dreadful  secret  foe  was  downed,  the  danger 

317 


<;     i 


Redruff 

But  not  for  all —  Nature,  the  «U 
«uiae,  had  come  too  late  for  two  of  them.  The 
weakest,  by  inexorable  law,  dropped  out.  En- 
tebled  by  the  disease,  the  remedy  was  too  se- 
vere for  them.  They  drank  and  drank  by  the 
Kream,  and  next  morning  did  not  move  when 
the  others  followed  the  mother.  Strange  ven* 
geancr  was  theirs  now,  for  a  skunk,  the  same 
that  could  have  told  where  Runtie  went,  found 
and  devoured  their  bodies  and  died  of  the  poi- 
son  they  had  eaten.  ^ 

Seven  little  partridges  now  obeyed  the 
mother's  call.  Their  individual  characters 
were  early  shown  and  now  developed  fast.  The 
weaklings  were  gone,  but  there  were  still  a  fool 
and  a  lazy  one.  The  mother  could  not  help 
caring  for  some  more  than  for  others,  and  her 
fevorite  was  the  biggest,  he  who  once  sat  on  the 
yellow  chip  for  concealment.  He  was  not  only 
the  bi^  .  >t,  strongest,  and  handsomest  of  the 
broofi,  but  best  of  all,  the  most  obedient.  His 
mother's  warning  *rrrrr'  (danger)  did  not 
always  keep  the  others  from  a  risky  path  or  a 
doubtful  food,  but  obedience  seemed  natural  to 
him,  and  he  never  failed  to  respond  to  her  soft 


Redraft 


re,  the  oM 
them.  The 
d  out     En- 
was  too  le- 

Irank  by  the 
move  when 
Strange  ven« 
ik,  the  same 
went,  found 
d  of  the  poi- 

r 

obeyed  the 
il  characten 
ped  fast.  The 
:re  still  a  fool 
uld  not  help 
hers,  and  her 
nee  sat  on  the 

was  not  only 
somest  of  the 
)edient.  His 
Tcr)   did   not 

cy  path  or  a 
led  natural  to 

nd  to  her  soft 


*  K-reet*  (Come),  and  of  this  obedience  he 
reaped  the  reward,  for  his  days  were  longest  in 
the  land. 

August,  the  Molting  Moon,  went  by;  the 
young  ones  were  now  three  parts  grown.  They 
knew  just  enough  to  think  themselves  wonder- 
fully wise.  When  they  were  small  it  was  nec- 
essary to  sleep  on  the  ground  so  their  mother 
could  shelter  them,  but  now  they  were  too  big 
Id  need  that,  and  the  mother  began  to  introduce 
g^own-up  ways  of  life.  It  was  time  to  roost  in 
the  trees.  The  young  weasels,  foxes,  skunks, 
and  minks  were  beginning  to  run.  The  ground 
grew  more  dangerous  each  night,  so  at  sundown 
Mother  Partridge  called  '  K-reet,*  and  flew  into 
a  thick,  low  tree. 

The  little  ones  followed,  except  one,  an  obsti- 
nate little  fool  who  persisted  in  sleeping  on  the 
ground  as  heretofore.  It  was  all  right  that 
time,  but  the  next  night  his  brothers  were 
awakened  by  his  cries.  There  was  a  slight 
scuffle,  then  stillness,  broken  only  by  a  horrid 
sound  of  crunching  bones  and  a  smacking  of 
lips.  They  peered  down  into  the  terrible  dark- 
ness below-  where  the  glint  of  two  close-set  eye» 

3»» 


©^ 


i'j 


■  ■  ■  1 
,  is 


!     * 


in 


III;  it  I 
>'  1 1 


flM 


Redfuff 

and  a  peculiar  musty  smell  told  them  that  ft 
mink  was  the  killer  of  their  fool  brother. 

Six  little  partridges  now  sat  in  a  row  at  night, 
with  their  mother  in  the  middle,  though  it  was 
not  unusual  for  some  little  one  with  cold  feet  to 
perch  on  her  back. 

Their  education  went  on,  and  about  this  time 
they  were  taught  ♦  whirring.'  A  partridge  can 
rise  on  the  wing  silently  if  it  wishes,  but  whir* 
ring  is  so  important  at  times  that  all  ate  taught 
how  and  when  to  rise  on  thundering  wings. 
Many  ends  are  gained  by  the  whirr.  It  warns 
all  other  partridges  near  that  danger  is  at  hand, 
it  unnerves  the  gunner,  or  it  fixes  the  foe's  at* 
tention  on  the  whirrer,  while  the  others  sneak 
off  in  silence,  or  by  squatting,  escape  notice. 

A  partridge  adage  might  well  be  '  foes  and 
food  for  every  moon.'  September  came,  with 
seeds  and  grain  in  place  of  berries  and  ant- 
^gs,  and  gunners  in  place  of  skunks  and  minks. 

The  partridges  knew  weU  what  a  fox  was, 
but  had  scarcely  seen  a  dog.  A  fox  they  knew 
they  could  easily  baffle  by  taking  to  a  tree,  but 
when  in  the  Gunner  Moon  old  Cuddy  came 
prowling  through  the  ravine  with  his  bob-tailed 

3» 


hem  that  • 
)ther. 

ow  at  night, 
ough  it  was 
cold  feet  to 

Dut  this  time 
artridge  can 
;s,  but  whir- 
U  are  taught 
ering  wings, 
■r.     It  warns 
er  is  at  hand, 
the  foe's  at- 
others  sneak 
ape  notice. 

be  '  foes  and 
;r  came,  with 

ies  and  ant- 
and  minks. 
^t  a  fox  was, 

IX  they  knew 
|to  a  tree,  but 

Cuddy  came 
is  bob-tailed 


'h 


In  the  moonlight. 


Do 

phil 

idei 

DO  I 


Rcdruff 

yellow  cur,  the  mother  spied  the  dog  and  cried 
out,  *Kwit/  kmtr  (Fly,  fly).  Two  of  the 
:)rood  thought  it  a  pity  their  mother  should  lose 
her  wits  so  easily  over  a  fox,  and  were  pleased 
to  show  their  superior  nerve  by  springing  into  a 
tree  in  spite  of  her  earnestly  repeated  *  Kwitt 
kwitl*  and  her  example  of  speeding  away  on 
silent  wings. 

Meanwhile,  the  strange  bob-tailed  fox  came 
under  the  tree  and  yapped  and  yapped  at  them. 
They  were  much  amused  at  him  and  at  their 
mother  and  brothers,  so  much  so  that  they 
never  noticed  a  rustling  in  the  bushes  till  there 
was  a  loud  Bang!  bang  I  and  down  fell  two 
bloody,  flopping  partridges,  to  be  seized  and 
mangled  by  the  yellow  cur  until  the  gunner  ran 
from  the  bushes  and  rescued  the  remains. 


Cuddy  lived  in  a  wretched  shanty  near  the 
Don,  north  of  Toronto.  His  was  what  Greek 
philosophy  would  have  demonstrated  to  be  an 
ideal  existence.  He  had  no  wealth,  no  taxes, 
Bo  social  pretensions,  and  no  property  to  speak 

1*3 


\\     i 


■1 


I 


Ml 


w 


m 


Kedrufi 

of.  His  life  was  made  up  of  a  very  little  work 
and  a  great  deal  of  play,  with  as  much  out-door 
lift  as  he  chose.  He  considered  h.mself  a  true 
sportsman  because  he  was  '  fond  o'  huntin'/  and 
'took  a  sight  o'  comfort  out  of  seein'  the  critters 
hit  the  mud'  when  his  gun  was  fired.  The 
neighbors  called  him  a  squatter,  and  looked  on 
him  merely  as  an  anchored  tramp.  He  shot 
and  trapped  the  year  round,  and  varied  his 
game  somewhat  with  the  season  perforce,  but 
had  been  heard  to  remark  he  could  tell  the 
month  by  the  'taste  o'  the  patridges,'  if  he 
didn't  happen  to  know  by  the  almanac  This, 
no  doubt,  showed  keen  observation,  but  was  also 
unfort»mate  proof  of  something  not  so  credit- 
able. The  lawful  season  for  murdering  par- 
tridges began  September  15th,  but  there  was 
nothing  surprising  in  Cuddy's  being  out  a  fort- 
night ahead  of  time.  Yet  he  managed  to  es- 
cape punishment  year  after  year,  and  even  con- 
trived to  pose  in  a  newspaper  interview  as  an 
interesting  character.  "^  * 

He  rarely  shot  on  the  vrlng,  preferring  to  pot 
his  birds,  which  was  not  easy  to  do  when  the 
leaves  were  on,  and  accounted  for  the  brood  io 

324 


^'i'.   h 


v.  •  ''i' 


r  little  work 
ich  out-door 
mself  a  true 
wntin','  and 
i'  the  critters 

fired.  The 
nd  looked  on 
ip.  He  shot 
id  varied  his 

perforce,  but 
:ould  tell  the     ^ 
:ridges,'  if  he 
manac    This, 
n,  but  was  also 

not  so  credit- 
nurdering  par- 
but  there  was 
eing  out  a  fort- 
nanaged  to  es- 
•,  pixd  even  con- 
interview  as  an 

r 

ireferring  to  pot 
to  do  when  the 
for  the  brood  in 


Redmtt 

(tie  inird  ravine  going  so  long  unharmed ;  but 
the  near  prospect  of  other  gunners  finding  them 
now,  had  stirred  him  to  go  after  <  a  mess  o' 
birds.*  He  had  heard  no  roar  of  wings  when 
the  mother-bird  led  off  ker  four  survivors,  so 
oocketed  the  two  he  had  killed  and  returned  to 
the  shanty. 

The  little  grouse  thus  learned  that  a  dog  ia 
not  a  fox,  and  must  be  differently  played ;  and 
an  old  lesson  was  yet  more  deeply  graven — 
•  Obedience  is  long  Hfe.* 
^  The  rest  of  September  was  passed  in  keeping 
quietly  out  of  the  way  of  gunners  as  well  as 
some  old  enemies.  They  still  roosted  on  the 
long  thin  branches  of  the  hardwood  trees  among 
the  thickest  leaves,  which  protected  them  from 
foes  in  the  air ;  the  height  saved  them  from  foes 
on  the  ground,  and  left  tbem  nothing  to  fear 
but  coons,  whose  slow,  heavy  tread  on  the  lim- 
ber boughs  never  failed  to  give  them  timely 
warning.  But  the  leaves  were  falling  now — 
every  month  its  foes  and  its  food.  This  was 
nut  time,  and  it  was  owl  time,  too.  Barred 
owls  coming  down  from  the  north  doubled  or 
trebled  the  owl  population.    The  nights  were 

.W5 


S»L 


^9 


IE     ! 


^ 


i  • 


I 


i 


Redfuff 


getting  frosty  and  the  coons  less  dangerous,  «o 
the  mother  changed  the  place  of  roosting  to  the 
thickest  foliage  of  a  hemlock-tree 

Only  one  of  the  brood  disregarded  the  warn- 
ing *Kreet,  kreet*  He  stuck  to  his  swinging 
elm-bough,  now  nearly  naked,  and  a  great  yel- 
low-eyed owl  bore  him  off  before  morning. 

Mother  and  three  young  ones  now  were  left, 
but  they  were  as  big  as  she  was;  indeed  one, 
the  eldest,  he  of  the  chip,  was  bigger.  Their 
rufis  had  begun  to  show.  Just  the  tips,  to  tell 
what  they  would  be  like  when  grown,  and  not 
a  little  proud  they  v/ere  of  them. 

The  ruff  is  to  the  partridge  what  the  train  is 
to  the  peacock — his  chief  beauty  and  his  pride. 
A  hen's  ruff  is  black  with  a  slight  green  gloss. 
A  cock's  is  much  larger  and  blacker  and  is 
glossed  wit*^  more  vivid  bottle-green.  Once  in 
a  while  a  partridge  is  bom  of  unusual  size  and 
vigor,  whose  ruff  is  not  only  larger,  but  by 
a  peculiar  kind  of  intensification  is  uf  a  deep 
coppery  red,  iridescent  with  violet,  green,  and 
gold.  Such  a  bird  is  sure  to  be  a  wonder  to 
all  who  know  him,  and  the  little  one  who  had 
squatted  on  the  chip,  and  had  always  done  what 

326 


dangerous,  lo 
roosting  to  the 

xded  the  wam- 
0  his  swinging 
nd  a  great  yel- 
e  morning, 
s  now  were  left, 
is;  indeed  one, 
bigger.    Their 
the  tips,  to  tell 
grown,  and  not 

I. 

ivhat  the  train  is 

ty  and  his  pride. 

jight  green  gloss. 

blacker  and  is 

green.    Once  in 

unusual  size  and 
r  larger,  but  by 
ion  is  of  a  deep 
riolet,  green,  and 
be  a  wonder  to 
ttle  one  who  had 
always  done  what 


be  was  told,  developed  before  the  Acorn  Moon 
had  changed,  into  all  the  glory  of  a  gold  and 
copper  ru£r — for  this  was  Redruff,  the  iamous 
partridge  of  the  Don  Valley, 

nr 

One  day  late  in  the  Acorn  Moon,  that  Is, 
about  mid-October,  as  the  grouse  family  were 
basking  with  full  crops  near  a  great  pine  log  on 
the  sunlit  edge  of  the  beaver-meadow,  they 
heard  the  far-away  bang  of  a  gvn,  and  Redniff, 
acting  on  some  impulse  from  within,  leaped 
on  the  log,  strutted  up  and  down  a  couple  of 
times,  then,  yielding  to  the  elation  of  the 
bright,  clear,  bracing  air,  he  whirred  his  wings 
in  loud  defiance.  Then,  giving  fuller  vent  to 
this  expression  of  vigor,  just  as  a  colt  frisks  to 
show  how  well  he  feels,  he  whirred  yet  more 
loudly,  until,  unwittingly,  he  found  himself 
drumming,  and  tickled  with  the  discovery  of  his 
new  power,  thumped  the  air  again  and  again  till 
he  filled  the  near  woods  with  the  loud  tattoo  iS 
the  fully  grown  cock-partridge.  His  brother 
ind  sister  beard  and  looked  on  with  adminitioa 

327 


'I 

h 


Redruff 


and  surprise ;  so  did  his  mother,  but  from  that 
time  she  began  to  be  a  little  afraid  of  him. 

In  early  November  comes  the  moon  of  a 
weird  foe.  By  a  strange  law  of  nature,  not 
wholly  without  parallel  among  mankind,  all 
partridges  go  crazy  in  the  November  moon  of 
their  first  year.  They  become  possessed  of  a 
mad  hankering  to  get  away  somewhere,  it  does 
not  matter  much  where.  And  the  wisest  of 
them  do  all  sorts  of  foolish  things  at  this  period. 
They  go  drifting,  perhaps,  at  speed  over  the 
country  by  night,  and  are  cut  in  two  by  wires, 
or  dash  into  lighthouses,  or  locomotive  head- 
lights. Daylight  finds  them  in  all  sorts  of 
absurd  places,  in  buildings,  in  open  marshes, 
perched  on  telephone  wires  in  a  great  city,  or 
even  on  board  of  coasting  vessels.  The  craze 
seems  to  be  a  relic  of  a  bygone  habit  of  migra- 
tion,  and  it  has  at  least  one  good  effect,  it 
breaks  up  the  families  and  prevents  the  constant 
intermarrying,  which  would  surely  be  fatal  to 
their  race.  It  always  takes  the  young  badly 
their  first  year,  and  they  may  have  it  again  the 
second  fall,  for  it  is  very  catching;  but  in  the 
^lird  season  it  is  practically  unknown. 

328 


but  from  that 
1  of  him. 
e  moon  of  a 
>f  nature,  not 
mankind,  all 
iber  moon  oi 
possessed  of  a 
!where,  it  does 
the  wisest  of 
I  at  this  period, 
peed  over  the 
two  by  wires, 
omotive  head* 
n   all  sorts  o! 
open  marshes, 
great  city,  or 
lis.    The  craze 
labit  of  migra- 
;ood  effect,  it 
Its  the  constant 
ely  be  fatal  to 
young  badly 
ive  it  again  the 
ng;  but  in  the 
Down. 


RcdruH 

Redrufi's  mother  knew  it  was  coming  as  soon 
as  she  saw  the  frost  grapes  blackening,  and  the 
maples  shedding  their  crimson  and  gold.  There 
was  nothing  to  do  but  care  for  their  health  and 
keep  them  in  the  quiitest  part  of  the  woods. 

The  first  sign  of  it  came  when  a  flock  of  wild 
geese  went  honking  (K)uthward  overhead.  The 
young  ones  had  never  before  seen  such  long- 
necked  hawks,  and  were  afraid  of  them.  But 
seeing  that  their  mother  had  no  fear,  they  took 
courage,  and  watched  them  with  intense  inter- 
est. Was  it  the  wild,  clanging  cry  that  moved 
them,  or  was  it  solely  the  inner  prompting  then 
come  to  the  surface  ?  A  strange  longing  to  foU 
low  took  possession  of  each  of  the  young  ones. 
They  watched  those  arrowy  trumpeters  fading 
away  to  the  south,  and  sought  out  higher 
perches  to  watch  them  farther  yet,  and  from 
that  time  things  were  no  more  the  same.  The 
November  moon  was  waxing,  and  when  it  was 
full,  the  November  madness  came. 

The  least  vigorous  of  the  flock  were  most 
affected.  The  little  family  was  scattered.  Red- 
rufT  himself  flew  on  several  lon^  erratic  night 
journeys.    The  impulse  took  him  southward. 


KMorrf  CAUMMl 


^iS 


I  i' 


B^r^rs 


rcedniff 

but  there  lay  the  boundless  stretch  of  Lake  On> 
tario,  so  he  turned  again,  and  the  waning  of 
the  Mad  Moon  found  him  once  more  in  the 
Mud  Creek  Glen,  but  absolutely  alone. 


Food  grew  scarce  as  winter  wore  on.  Re<^ 
ruff  clung  to  the  old  ravine  and  the  piney  sides 
of  Taylor's  Hill,  but  every  month  brought  its 
food  and  its  foes.  The  Mad  Moon  brought 
madness,  solitude,  and  grapes ;  the  Snow  Moon 
came  with  rosehips;  and  the  Stormy  Moon 
brought  browse  of  birch  and  silver  storms  that 
sheathed  the  woods  in  ice,  and  made  it  hard  to 
keep  one's  perch  while  pulling  off  the  frozen 
buds.  RedruflTs  beak  grew  terribly  worn  with 
the  work,  so  that  even  when  closed  there  was  still 
an  opening  through  behind  the  hook.  But  nat- 
ure had  prepared  him  for  the  slippery  footing ; 
his  toes,  so  slim  and  trim  in  September,  had 
sprouted  rows  of  sharp,  horny  points,  and  these 
grew  with  the  growing  cold,  till  the  first  snow 
had  found  him  fully  equipped  with  snow-shoes 
imd  ice-creepers.     The  cold  weather  had  driven 

330 


of  Lake  On. 
s  waning  of 
more  in  the 
lone. 


e  on.    R*<^ 
le  piney  side* 
1  brought  its 
Aoon  brought 
le  Snow  Moon 
Stormy  Moon 
ler  storms  that 
nade  it  hard  to 
off  the  frozen 
ibly  worn  with 
d  there  was  still 
cok.     But  nat- 
ppery  footing ; 
;eptember,  had 
loints,  and  these 

the  first  snow 
with  snow-shoes 

thcr  had  driven 


Rc^ruff 

«way  most  of  the  hawks  and  owls,  and  made 
it  impossible  for  his  four-footed  enemies  to 
approhch  unseen,  so  that  things  were  nearly 
balanced. 

His  flight  in  search  of  food  had  daily  led  him 
farther  on,  till  he  had  discovered  and  explored  the 
Rosedale  Creek,  with  its  banks  of  silver-birch, 
and  Castle  Frank,  with  its  grapes  and  rowan 
berries,  as  well  as  Chester  woodsj  where  amel* 
anchier  and  Virginia-creeper  swung  their  fruit- 
bunches,  and  checkerberries  glowed  beneath 
the  snow. 

He  soon  found  out  that  for  some  strange  rea- 
son men  with  guns  did  not  go  within  the  high 
fence  of  Castle  Frank.  So  among  these  scenes 
he  lived  his  life,  learning  new  places,  new  foods, 
and  grew  wiser  and  more  beautiful  every  day. 

He  was  quite  alone  so  far  as  kindred  were 
concerned,  but  that  scarcely  seemed  a  hardship. 
Wherever  he  went  he  could  see  the  jolly  chick- 
adees scrambling  merrily  about,  and  he  remem- 
bered the  time  when  they  had  seemed  such 
big,  important  creatures.  They  were  the  most 
absurdly  cheerful  things  in  the  woods.  Before 
the  autumn  was  fairly  over  they  had  begun  to 

331 


r. 


Kctffuft 

ling  thdr  famous  refrain,  *  Spring  Soon*  tad 
kq>t  it  up  with  good  heart  more  or  leas  al 


J;;  ! 


Mi 


35: 


'3|irtnp  ' 


«oon 


through  the  winter's  direst  storms,  till  at  length 
the  waning  of  the  Htmger  Moon,  our  February, 
seemed  really  to  lend  some  point  to  the  ditty, 
and  they  redoubled  their  optimistic  announce^ 
ment  to  the  world  in  an  '  I-told-you-so '  mood. 
Soon  good  support  was  found,  for  the  sun 
gained  strength  and  melted  the  snow  from  the 
southern  slope  of  Castle  Frank  Hill,  and  ex- 
posed great  banks  of  fragrant  wintergreen, 
whose  berries  were  a  bounteous  feast  for  Red- 
ruff,  and,  ending  the  hard  work  of  pulling 
frozen  browse,  gave  his  bill  the  needed  chance 
to  grow  into  its  proper  shape  again.  Very 
soon  the  first  bluebird  came  flying  over  and 
warbled  as  he  flew  *  The  spring  is  coming*  The 
sun  kept  gaining,  and  early  one  day  in  the  dark 
of  the  Wakening  Moon  of  March  there  was  a 
loud  '  Caw,  caw,*  and  old  Silverspot,  the  king- 

S3> 


'"! 


KcdfuiF 


,  till  at  length 
OUT  February, 
to  the  ditty, 
tic  announce* 
ou-so'  mood. 
,  for   the  sun 
jnow  from  the 
Hill,  and  ex- 
t  wintergreen, 
feast  for  Red- 
jrk  of  pulling 
needed  chance 
again.     Very 
ying  over  and 
coming*   The 
day  in  the  dark 
:h  there  was  a 
spot,  the  king- 


crow,  came  swinging  along  from  the  south  it 
the  head  of  his  troops  and  officially  announced 

*THE  SPRING   HAS  COME.' 

AH  nature  seemed  to  respond  to  this,  the 
opening  of  the  birds'  New  Year,  and  yet  it  was 
something  within  that  chiefly  seemed  to  move 
them.  The  chickadees  went  simply  wild ;  they 
sang  their  '  Spring  now,  spring  now  now-^ 
Spring  now  now,*  so  persistently  that  one  won- 
dered how  they  found  time  to  get  a  living. 

And  RedrufT  felt  it  thrill  him  through  and 
through.  le  sprang  with  joyous  vigor  on  a 
stump  and  sent  rolling  down  the  little  valley, 
again  and  again,  a  thundering  *  Thump,  thump, 
thump,  thunderrrrrrrrr,^  that  wakened  dull 
echoes  as  it  rolled,  and  voiced  his  gladness  in 
the  coming  of  the  spring. 

Away  down  the  valley  was  Cuddy's  shanty. 
He  heard  the  drum-call  on  the  still  morning 
air  and  '  reckoned  there  was  a  cock  patridge  to 
git,'  and  came  sneaking  up  the  ravine  with  his 
gun.  But  Redruff  skimmed  away  in  silence,  nor 
rested  till  once  more  in  Mud  Creek  Glen.  And 
there  he  moimted  the  very  log  where  first  hft 

ass 


%M.- 


^^,Sk^ 


J 


i 


Redfoff 

had  drummed  and  rdled  his  loud  tattoo  again 
and  again,  till  a  small  boy  whc  had  taken  a  short 
cut  to  the  mill  through  the  woods,  ran  home, 
badly  scared,  to  tell  his  mother  he  was  sure  tht 
Lidians  were  on  the  war-path,  for  he  heard  their 
war-drums  beating  in  the  glen. 

Why  does  a  happy  boy  holla?  Why  does 
a  lonesome  youth  sigh?  They  don't  know 
any  more  than  Redruff  knew  why  every  day 
now  he  mounted  some  dead  log  and  thumped 
and  thundered  to  the  woods ;  then  strutted  and 
admired  his  gorgeous  blazing  ruffs  as  they 
flashed  their  jewels  in  the  sunlight,  and  then 
thundered  out  again.  Whence  now  came  the 
strange  wish  for  someone  else  to  admire  the 
plumes?  And  why  had  such  a  notion  never 
come  till  the  Pussywillow  Moon  ? 

*  Thump f  thumps  thunder-r-r-r-r-r-rrrr* 

*  Thump,  thump,  thunder-r-r-r-r-r-rrrr* 
he  rumbled  again  and  again. 

Day  after  day  he  rought  the  favorite  log,  and 
a  new  beauty,  a  rose-red  comb,  grew  out  above 
each  clear,  keen  eye,  and  the  clumsy  snow- 
snoes  were  wholly  shed  from  his  feet.  His  ruff 
grew  iiner,  his  eye  brighter,  and  his  whole  ap- 


RcdroH 

peanmce  splendid  to  behold,  as  he  strutted  and 
flashed  in  the  sun.  But— oh  1  he  yiza  so  lone- 
some now. 

Yet  what  could  he  do  but  blindly  vent  his 
hankering  in  this  daily  drum-parade,  till  on  a 
day  early  in  loveliest  May,  when  the  trilliums 
had  fringed  his  log  with  silver  stars,  and  he  had 
drummed  and  longed,  then  drummed  again,  his 
keen  ear  caught  a  sound,  a  gentle  footfall  in  the 
brush.  He  turned  to  a  statue  and  watched ;  he 
knew  he  had  been  watched.  Could  it  be  pos- 
sible? Yes!  there  it  was — a  form — another — a 
shy  little  lady  grouse,  now  bashfully  seeking  to 
hide.  In  a  moment  he  was  by  her  side.  His 
whole  nature  swamped  by  a  new  feeling — ^bumt 
up  with  thirst — a  cooling  spring  in  sight.  And 
how  he  spread  and  flashed  his  proud  array  I 
How  came  he  to  know  that  that  would  please  ? 
He  pufTed  his  plumes  and  contrived  to  stand 
just  right  to  catch  the  sun,  and  strutted  and  ut* 
tered  a  low,  soft  chuckle  that  musl  have  been 
just  as  good  as  the  '  sweet  nothings '  of  another 
race,  for  clearly  now  her  heart  was  won.  Won, 
jeally,  days  ago,  if  only  he  had  known.  For  full 
three  days  she  dad  come  at  the  loud  tattoo  and 


Redraft 

ooyly  admired  him  from  a£Eir,  and  felt  a  little 
piqued  that  he  had  not  yet  found  out  her,  sc 
close  at  hand.  So  it  was  not  quite  all  mis< 
chance,  perhaps,  that  little  stamp  that  caught 
his  ear.  But  now  she  meekly  bowed  her  head 
with  sweet,  submissive  grace — the  desert  passed, 
the  parch-bumt  wanderer  found  the  spring  at 
last. 


©^ 


m-^ 


Oh,  those  were  bright,  glad  days  in  the 
lovely  glen  of  the  unlovely  name.  The  sun 
was  never  so  bright,  and  the  piney  air  was 
balmier  sweet  than  dreams.  And  that  great 
noble  bird  came  daily  on  his  log,  sometimes 
with  her  and  sometimes  quite  alone,  and 
drummed  for  very  joy  of  being  alive.  But  why 
sometimes  alone  ?  Why  not  forever  with  his 
Brownie  bride  ?  Why  should  she  stay  to  feast 
and  play  with  him  for  hours,  then  take  some 
stealthy  chance  to  slip  away  and  see  him  no 
more  for  hours  or  till  next  day,  when  his  mar- 
tial music  from  the  log  announced  him  restless 
for  her  quick  return  ?  There  was  a  woodland 
mystery  here  he  could  not  clear.  Why  should 
her  stay  with  him  grow  daily  less  till  it  was 

»6 


111 


RtdtuH 


felt  a  little 
d  out  her,  sc 
uite  all  mis- 
,  that  caught 
ved  her  head 
desert  passed, 

the  spring  at 

days  in  the 
me.     The  sun 
piney  air  was 
^nd  that  great 
log,  sometimes 
ite   alone,   and 
live.    But  why 
brever  with  his 
ihe  stay  to  feast 
then  take  some 
ind  see  him  no 

,  when  his  mar- 
ced  him  restless 

was  a  woodland 
tr.  Why  should 
f  less  till  it  was 


down  to  minutes,  and  one  day  at  last  she  never 
came  at  all.  Nor  the  next,  nor  the  next,  and 
RedrufT,  wild,  careered  on  lightning  wing  and 
drummed  on  the  old  log,  then  away  up-stream 
on  another  log,  and  skimmed  the  hill  to  another 
ravine  to  drum  and  drum.  But  on  the  fourth 
day,  when  he  came  and  loudly  called  her,  as  of 
old,  at  their  earliest  tryst,  he  heard  a  sound  in 
the  bushes,  as  at  first,  and  there  was  his  miss- 
ing Brownie  bride  with  ten  little  peeping  par- 
tridges following  after. 

Redruff  skimmed  to  her  side,  terribly  frighten- 
ing the  bright-eyed  downlings,  and  was  just  a 
little  dashed  to  find  the  brood  with  claims  far 
stronger  than  his  own.  But  he  soon  accepted 
the  change,  and  thenceforth  joined  himself  to 
the  brood,  caring  for  them  as  his  father  never 
had  for  him. 

VI 

Good  fathers  are  rare  in  the  grouse  world. 
The  mother-grouse  builds  her  nest  and  hatches 
out  her  young  without  help.  She  even  hides 
the  place  of  the  nest  from  the  father  and  meett 

337 


RedruS 


him  only  ui  the  drum-log  and  the  feeding- 
ground,  or  perhaps  the  dusting-place,  which  it 
the  club-house  of  the  grouse  kind. 

When  Brownie's  little  ones  came  out  the) 
had  filled  her  every  thought,  even  to  the  for- 
getting of  their  splendid  f  Mr.  But  on  the 
third  day,  when  they  were  strong  enough,  she 
had  taken  them  with  her  at  the  father's  call. 

Some  fathers  take  no  interest  in  their  little 
ones,  but  Redruflf  joined  at  once  to  help 
Brownie  in  the  task  of  rearing  the  brood.  Tb<^y 
had  learned  to  eat  and  drink  just  as  their  father 
had  learned  long  ago,  and  could  toddle  along, 
with  their  mother  leading  the  way,  while  the 
father  ranged  near  by  or  followed  far  behind. 

The  very  next  day,  as  they  went  from  the 
hill-side  down  toward  the  creek  in  a  somewhat 
drawn-out  string,  like  beads  with  a  big  one 
at  each  end,  a  red  squirrel,  peeping  around  a 
pine-trunk,  watched  the  procession  of  down> 
lings  with  the  Runtie  straggling  far  in  the 
rear.  Redruff,  yards  behind,  preening  his 
feathers  on  a  high  log,  had  escaped  the  eye  of 
the  squirrel,  whose  strange  perverted  thirst  for 
fairdling  blood  was  roused  at  what  seemed  so 


n 


e  feeding- 
;,  which  it 

e  out  the) 

to  the  for- 

But  on  the 

•nough,  she  ■  |i 

ler's  call.  |  i] 

I  their  little 

ce   to   help 

rood.   Th'^y 

s  their  father 

oddle  along* 

ly,  while  the 

far  behind. 

ent  from  the 

I  a  somewhat 

h  a  big  one 

ing  around  a 

on  of  down- 

g  far  in  the 

preening    Ais 

^  the  eye  of 

:ted  thirst  for 

lat  seemed  so 


I   i 


Redruff  saving  Runtie. 


e-/-r. 


Redraff 

fidr  a  chance.  With  murderous  intent  to  cvt 
off  the  hindmost  straggler,  he  made  a  dash. 
Brownie  could  not  have  seen  him  until  too  late, 
but  RedrufT  did.  He  flew  for  that  red-haired 
cutthroat ;  his  weapons  were  his  fists,  that  is, 
the  knob-joints  of  the  wings,  and  what  a  blow 
he  could  strike  !  At  the  first  onset  he  stnick 
the  squirrel  square  on  the  end  of  the  nose,  his 
weakest  spot,  and  sent  him  reeling;  he  stag- 
gered and  wriggled  into  a  brush-pile,  where  he 
had  expected  to  carry  the  little  grouse,  and  there 
lay  gasping  with  red  drops  trickling  down  his 
wicked  snout.  The  partridges  left  him  lying 
there,  and  what  became  of  him  they  never 
knew,  but  he  troubled  them  no  more. 

The  family  went  on  toward  the  water,  but 
a  cow  had  left  deep  tracks  in  the  sandy  loam, 
and  into  one  of  th^se  fell  one  of  the  chicks  an  J 
peeped  in  dire  distress  when  he  found  he  could 
not  get  out. 

This  was  a  fix.  Neither  old  one  seemed  to 
know  what  to  do,  but  as  they  trampled  vainly 
round  the  edge,  the  sandy  bank  caved  in,  and, 
running  down,  formed  a  long  slope,  up  which 
the  young  one  ran  and  rejoined  his  brothexs 

341 


) 


li 


1^- 


if 


ifti: 


Redruff 

tmder  the  broad  vevanda  of  their  mother't 
tail. 

Brownie  was  a  bright  little  mother,  of  small 
stature,  but  keen  of  wit  and  sense,  and  wa««, 
night  and  day,  alert  to  care  for  her  darling 
chicks.  How  proudly  she  stepped  and  clucked 
through  the  arching  woods  with  her  dainty 
brood  behind  her;  how  she  strained  her  little 
brown  tail  almost  to  a  half-circle  to  give  them 
a  broader  shade,  and  never  flinched  at  sight  of 
any  foe,  but  held  ready  to  fight  or  fly,  which- 
ever seemed  "he  best  for  her  little  ones. 

Before  the  chicks  could  fly  they  had  a 
meeting  with  old  Cuday ;  though  it  was  June, 
he  was  out  with  his  gun.  Up  the  third  ravine 
he  went,  and  Tike,  his  dog,  ranging  ahead, 
came  so  dangerously  near  the  Brownie  brood 
that  Redruff  ran  to  meet  him,  and  by  the  old  but 
never  failing  trick  led  him  on  a  foolish  chase 
away  back  down  the  valley  of  the  Don. 

But  Cuddy,  as  it  chanced,  came  right  along, 
straight  for  the  brood,  and  Brownie,  giving  the 
signal  to  the  children,  * Krrr,  krrr*  (Hide, 
hide),  ran  to  lead  the  man  away  just  as  her  mate 
had  led  the  dog.     Full  of  a  mother's  devoted 

.342 


a 


I"  1 


Rednstl 


idr  mother't 


k>ve,  and  skilled  in  the  learning  of  the  woodi, 
she  ran  in  siilence  till  quite  near,  then  sprang 
with  a  roar  of  wings  right  in  his  face,  and 
tumbling  on  the  leaves  she  shammed  a  lameness 
that  for  a  moment  deceived  the  poacher.  But 
when  she  dragged  one  wing  and  whined  about 
his  feet,  then  slowly  crawled  away,  he  knew  just 
what  it  meant — that  it  was  all  a  trick  to  lead 
him  from  her  brood,  and  he  struck  at  her  a  sav- 
age blow  J  but  little  Brownie  was  quick,  she 
avoided  the  blow  and  limped  behind  a  sapliag, 
there  to  beat  herself  upon  the  leaves  again  in 
sore  distress,  and  seem  so  lame  that  Cuddy 
made  another  try  to  strike  her  down  with  a 
stick.  '^  But  she  moved  in  time  to  balk  him,  and 
bravely,  steadfast  still  io  lead  him  from  her  help- 
less little  ones,  she  flung  herself  before  him  and 
beat  her  gentle  breast  upon  the  ground,  and 
moaned  as  though  begging  for  mercy.  And 
Cuddy,  failing  again  to  strike  her,  raised  his 
gun,  and  firing  charge  enough  to  kill  a  bear,  he 
blew  poor  brave,  devoted  Brownie  into  quiver- 
ing, bloody  rags. 

This  gunner  brute  knew  the  young  must  be 
hiding  near,  so  looked  about  to  find  them.   But 

343 


li 


Redraff 


■;•( 


i 


|X 


fl^ 


y^ 


no  oue  moved  or  peeped.  He  saw  not  one,  t>ut 
as  he  tramped  about  with  heedless,  hateful  feet, 
he  crossed  and  crossed  again  their  hiding- 
ground,  and  more  than  one  of  tb(t  silent  little 
sufTerers  he  trampled  to  death,  and  neither  knew 
nor  cared. 

RedrufT  had  taken  the  yellow  brute  away  of! 
down-stream,  and  now  returned  to  where  he 
left  his  mate.  The  murderer  had  gone,  taking 
her  remains,  to  be  thrown  to  the  dog.  Red- 
rufT sought  about  and  found  the  bloody  spot 
with  feathers,  %ownie's  feathers,  scattered 
around,  and  now  he  knew  the  meaning  of  that 
shot. 

Who  can  tell  what  his  horror  and  his  mourn- 
ing were  ?  The  outward  signs  were  few,  some 
minutes  dumbly  gazing  at  the  place  with  down- 
cast, draggled  look,  and  then  a  change  at  the 
thought  of  their  helpless  brood.  Back  to  the 
hiding-place  he  went,  and  called  the  well-hnown 
*  Kreety  kreet.  *  Did  every  grave  give  up  its  little 
inmate  at  the  magic  word?  No,  barely  more  than 
half;  six  little  balls  of  down  unveiled  their  lus- 
trous eyes,  and,  rising,  ran  to  meet  him,  but  four 
feathered  little  bodies  had  found  their  graves  in* 

344 


■ccdfcfti 

deed.  RedrufT  called  again  and  again,  tiU  Mr 
was  sure  that  all  who  could  respond  had  come, 
then  led  them  from  that  dreadful  place,  far,  far 
•way  up-stream,  where  barb-wire  fences  and 
bramble  thickets  were  found  to  offer  a  Icfi 
grateful,  but  more  reliable,  shelter. 

Here  the  brood  grew  and  were  trained  by 
their  father  just  as  his  mother  had  trained  him; 
though  wider  knowledge  and  experience  gave 
him  many  advantages.  He  knew  so  well  the 
country  round  and  all  the  feeding-grounds,  and 
how  to  meet  the  ills  that  harass  partridge-life, 
that  the  summer  passed  and  not  a  chick  was  lost. 
They  grew  and  flourished,  and  when  the  Gun- 
ner Moon  arrived  they  were  a  fine  family  of  six 
grown-up  grouse  with  RedrufT,  splendid  in  his 
gleaming  copper  feathers,  at  their  head.  He 
had  ceased  to  drum  during  the  summer  after  the 
loss  of  Brownie,  but  drumming  is  to  the  par- 
tridge what  singing  is  to  the  lark ;  while  it  is  his 
iove-song,  it  is  also  an  expression  of  exuberance 
Dorn  of  health,  and  when  the  molt  was  over  and 
September  food  and  weather  had  renewed  his 
4>ienaid  plumes  and  braced  him  up  again,  his 
spirits  revived,  and  finding  himself  one  d$f 

345 


ii 


HH'i'I 

^■^1''  tjF 

^1 

W¥ 

ft\u'i. 

f:    i 

*    If      i 

ii 

Uh 

:| 

it  \ 

I  H     i 

t^WB 

fill 

i  f 

V  ■if 

^    E 

near  the  old  log  he  mounted  ImpuMvelf,  and 

drummed  again  and  again. 

From  that  time  he  often  drummed,  while  ha 
children  sat  around,  or  one  who  showed  hk 
father's  blood  would  mount  some  nearby  stump 
or  stone,  and  beat  the  air  in  the  loud  tattoo. 

The  black  grapes  and  the  Mad  Moon  now 
came  on.  But  RedrufTs  brood  wetc  of  a  vigor- 
ous stock;  their  robust  health  meant  robust 
wits,  and  though  they  got  the  craze,  it  passed 
within  a  week,  and  only  three  had  flown  away 
for  good. 

Redruff*,  with  his  remaining  three,  was  living 
in  the  glen  when  the  snow  came.  It  was  light, 
flaky  snow,  and  as  the  weather  was  not  very  cold, 
the  family  squatted  for  the  night  under  the  low, 
flat  boughs  of  a  cedar-tree.  But  next  day  the 
storm  continued,  it  grew  colder,  and  the  drifts 
piled  up  all  day.  At  night,  the  snow-fall  ceased, 
but  the  frost  grew  harder  still,  so  Redrufif,  leading 
the  family  to  a  birch-tree  above  a  deep  drift, 
dived  into  the  snow,  and  the  others  did  the 
same.  Then  into  the  holes  the  wind  blew  tne 
loose  snow — their  pure  white  bed-clothes,  ana 
thus  tucked  in  they  slept  in  comfort,  for  ite 

346 


Redrutf 

snow  is  a  warm  wrap,  and  the  air  jiasaes  through 
it  easily  enough  for  breathing.  Next  morning 
each  partridge  found  a  solid  wall  of  itc  l)efore 
him  from  his  frozen  breath,  but  easily  turned  to 
one  side  and  rose  on  the  wing  at  Red  ruffs 
morning  '  Kreet,  kreet,  kwit.'  (Come  children, 
come  children,  fly.) 

This  was  the  first  night  for  them  in  a  snow- 
drift, though  it  was  an  old  story  to  Redruff,  and 
next  night  they  merrily  dived  again  into  l)ed,  and 
the  north  wind  tucked  them  in  as  before.  But 
a  change  of  weather  was  brewing.  Tlie  night 
wind  veered  to  the  east.  A  fall  of  heavy  flakes 
gave  place  to  sleet,  and  that  to  silver  rain.  The 
whole  wide  world  was  sheathed  in  ice,  and 
when  the  grouse  awoke  to  quit  their  beds,  they 
found  themselves  sealed  in  with  a  great  cruel 
sheet  of  edgeless  ice. 

The  deeper  snow  was  still  quite  soft,  and  Red- 
ruff bored  his  way  to  the  top,  but  there  the 
hard,  white  sheet  defied  his  strength.  Hammer 
and  struggle  as  he  might  he  could  make  no  im- 
pression, and  only  bruised  his  wings  and  head. 
His  life  had  been  made  up  of  keen  joys  and 
dull  hardships,  with  frequent  sudden  desperate 

347 


Redruf! 

straits,  but  this  seemed  the  hardest  brunt  of  all, 
as  the  slow  hours  wore  on  and  found  him  weak* 
ening  with  his  struggles,  but  no  nearer  to  free- 
dom. He  could  hear  the  struggling  of  his 
family,  too,  or  sometimes  heard  them  calling  to 
him  for  help  with  their  long-drawn  plaintive 
*  p-e-e-e-e-e-t-e,  p-e-e-e-e-e-t-e.  * 

They  were  hidden  from  many  of  their  ene- 
mies, but  not  from  the  pangs  of  hunger,  and 
when  the  night  came  down  the  weary  prison- 
ers, worn  out  with  hunger  and  useless  toil,  grew 
quiet  in  despair.  At  first  they  had  been  afraid 
the  fox  would  come  and  find  them  imprisoned 
there  at  his  mercy,  but  as  the  second  night 
went  slowly  by  they  no  longer  cared,  and  even 
wished  he  would  come  and  break  the  crusted 
snow,  and  so  give  them  at  least  a  fighting 
chance  for  life. 

But  when  the  fox  really  did  come  padding 
over  the  frozen  drift,  the  deep-laid  love  of  life 
revived,  and  they  crouched  in  utter  stillness 
till  he  passed.  The  second  day  was  one  of 
driving  storm.  The  north  wind  sent  his  snow- 
horses,  hissing  and  careering  over  the  white 
earth,  tossing  and  curling  their  white  mana 

348 


!    ! 


(leoruTv 


and  kicking  up  more  snow  as  they  dashed  on. 
The  long,  hard  grinding  of  the  granular  snow 
seemed  to  be  thinning  the  snow-crust,  for  though 
far  from  dark  below,  it  kept  on  growing  tighter. 
Redruff  had  pecked  and  pecked  at  the  under 
side  all  day,  till  his  head  ached  and  his  bill  was 
wearing  blunt,  but  when  the  sun  went  down  he 
seemed  as  far  as  ever  from  escape.  The  night 
passed  like  the  others,  except  no  fox  went  trot- 
ting overhead.  In  the  morning  he  renewed 
his  pecking,  though  now  with  scarcely  any 
force,  and  the  voices  or  struggles  of  the  other* 
were  no  more  heard.  As  the  daylight  grew 
stronger  he  could  see  that  his  long  efforts  had 
made  a  brighter  spot  above  him  in  the  snow, 
and  he  continued  feebly  pecking.  Outside,  the 
storm-horses  kept  on  trampling  all  day,  the 
crust  was  really  growing  thin  under  their  heeis, 
and  late  that  afternoon  his  bill  went  through 
into  the  open  air.  New  life  came  with  this  gain, 
and  he  pecked  away,  till  just  before  the  sun 
went  down  he  had  made  a  hole  that  his  head, 
his  neck,  and  his  ever- beautiful  ruffs  could  pass. 
His  great  broad  shoulders  were  too  large,  out 
he  could  now  strike  downward,  which  gave  mm 

'.40 


Redraft 


i 
I 


foarfbld  force ;  the  snow-cnist  crumbled  quickly, 
and  in  a  little  while  he  sprang  from  his  icy 
prison  once  more  free.  But  the  young  ones! 
Redruff  flew  to  the  nearest  bank,  hastily  gath- 
ered a  few  red  hips  to  stay  his  gnawing  hun- 
ger, then  returned  to  the  prison  drift  and  clucked 
and  stamped.  He  got  only  one  reply,  a  feeble 
* peete,  peete,*  and  scratching  with  his  sharp 
claws  on  the  thinned  granular  sheet  he  soon 
broke  through,  and  Graytail  feebly  crawled  out 
of  the  hole.  But  that  was  all ;  the  others,  scat- 
tered he  could  not  tell  where  in  the  drift,  made 
no  reply,  gave  no  sign  of  life,  and  he  was  forced 
to  leave  them.  When  the  snow  melted  in  the 
spring  their  bodies  came  to  view,  skin,  bones, 
and  feathers — nothing  more. 


VII 

It  was  long  before  Redruff  and  Graytail  tuny 
recovered,  but  food  and  rest  in  plenty  are  sure 
cure-alls,  and  a  bright  clear  day  in  midwinter 
had  the  usual  effect  of  setting  the  vigorous  Red- 
ruff to  drumming  on  the  log.  Was  it  the 
drumming,  or  the  tell-tale  tracks  of  their  snow- 

350 


m  n 


Kfldran 


imbled  quickly, 
g  from  his  icy 
le  young  ones! 
ik,  hastily  gath- 
gnawing  hun- 
irift  and  clucked 
e  reply,  a  feeble 

with  his  sharp 

sheet  he  soon 

;bly  crawled  out 

the  others,  scat- 
1  the  drift,  made 
nd  he  was  forced 
)\v  melted  in  the 
iew,  skin,  bones, 


md  Graytail  tuny 
in  plenty  are  sure 
day  in  midwinter 
the  vigorous  Red- 
og.  Was  it  the 
cks  of  their  snow- 


shoes  on  the  omnipresent  snow,  that  betnytd 
them  to  Cuddy  ?  He  came  prowling  again  and 
again  up  the  ravine,  with  dog  and  gun,  int-^nt 
to  hunt  the  partridges  down.  They  knew  him 
of  old,  and  he  was  coming  now  to  know  them 
well.  That  great  copper-ruflfed  cock  was  be- 
coming famous  up  and  down  the  valley.  Dur- 
ing  the  Gunner  Moon  many  a  one  had  tried  to 
end  his  splendid  life,  just  as  a  worthless  wretch 
of  old  sought  fame  by  burning  the  Ephesian 
wonder  of  the  world.  But  Redruff  was  deep 
in  woodcraft.  He  knew  just  where  to  hide, 
and  when  to  rise  on  silent  wing,  and  when  to 
squat  till  overstepped,  then  rise  on  thunder 
wing  within  a  yard  to  shield  himself  at  once 
behind  some  mighty  tree-trunk  and  speed  away. 

But  Cuddy  never  ceased  to  follow  with  his 
gun  that  red-ruffed  cock ;  many  a  long  snapshot 
he  tried,  but  somehow  always  found  a  tree,  a 
bank,  or  some  safe  shield  between,  and  Kedruff 
Uved  and  throve  and  drummed. 

When  the  Snow  Moon  came  he  moved  with 
Graytail  to  the  Castle  Frank  woods,  where  food 
was  plenty  as  well  as  grand  old  trees.  There 
was  in  particular,  on  the  east  slope  among  the 


Redniff 


cteq)ing  hemiocks,  a  splendid  pine.  It  was  six 
feet  through,  and  its  first  branches  began  at  the 
tops  of  the  other  trees.  Its  top  in  summer-time 
was  a  famous  resort  for  the  blaejay  and  his 
bride.  Here,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  shot,  in 
warm  spring  days  the  jay  would  sing  and  dance 
b.'fore  his  mate,  spread  his  bright  blue  plumes 
and  warble  the  sweetest  fairyland  music,  so 
sweet  and  soft  that  few  hear  it  but  the  one  for 
whom  it  is  meant,  and  books  know  nothing  at 
all  about  it. 

This  great  pine  had  an  especial  interest  for 
RedrufT,  now  living  near  with  his  remaining 
voung  one,  but  its  base,  not  'ts  far-away  crown, 
concerned  him.  All  aiound  were  low,  creep- 
ing hemlocks,  and  amonij;  them  the  partridge- 
vine  and  the  wintergreen  grew,  and  the  sweet 
black  acorns  could  be  scratched  from  under  the 
snow.  There  was  no  better  feeding-ground, 
for  when  that  insatiable  gunner  came  on  them 
there  it  was  easy  to  run  low  among  the  hemlock 
to  the  great  pine,  then  rise  with  a  derisive 
whirr  behind  its  bulk,  and  keeping  the  huge 
trunk  in  line  with  the  de^.dly  gun,  skim  off  in 
safety.    A  dozen  times  at  least  the  pine  had 

35a 


Kcttftlll 

saved  them  during  the  lawful  murder 
and  here  it  was  that  Cuddy,  knowing  their 
feeding  habits,  laid  a  new  trap.  Under  the 
bank  he  sneaked  and  watched  in  ambush  wnile 
an  accomplice  went  around  the  Sugar  Loai  to 
drive  the  birds.  H--  came  trampling  through 
the  low  thicket  where  Redruff  and  Graytail 
were  feeding,  and  long  before  the  gunner  was 
dangerously  near  Redruff  gave  a  low  warning 
•  rrr-rrr '  (danger)  and  walked  quickly  toward 
*iie  great  pine  in  case  they  had  to  rise. 

Graytail  was  some  distance  up  the  hill,  and 
suddenly  caught  sight  of  a  new  foe  close  at 
hand,  the  yellow  cur,  coming  right  on.  Red- 
ruff, much  farther  off,  could  not  see  him  for  the 
bushes,  and  Graytail  became  greatly  alarmed. 

*  Kwit,  kwit*  (Fly,  fly),  she  cried,  running 
down  the  hill  for  a  start.  *  Kreet,  k-r-r-r* 
(This  way,  hide),  cried  the  cooler  Redruff,  for 
he  saw  that  now  the  man  with  the  gun  was  get- 
ting in  range.  He  gained  the  great  trunk,  and 
behind  it,  as  he  paused  a  moment  to  call 
earnestly  to  Graytail,  '  This  way,  this  way,'  he 
heard  a  slight  noise  under  the  bank  before  him 
that  betrayed  the  ambush,  then  there  was  a  ter- 

MS 


Rtittttt 


rified  cry  from  Grajrtail  as  the  dog  sprang;  at 
her,  she  rose  in  air  and  skimmed  behind  the 
shielding  trunk,  away  from  the  gunner  in  the 
open,  right  into  the  power  of  the  miserable 
wretch  under  the  bank. 

Whirr,  and  up  she  went,  a  beautiful,  sen- 
tient, noble  being. 

Ban^,  and  down  she  fell — ^battered  and  bleed- 
ing, to  gasp  her  life  out  and  to  li'.,  mere  car- 
rion in  the  snow. 

It  was  a  perilous  place  for  RedrufT.  There  was 
no  chance  for  a  safe  rise,  so  he  squatted  low. 
The  dog  came  within  ten  feet  of  him,  and  the 
stranger,  coming  across  to  Cuddy,  passed  at 
five  feet,  but  he  never  moved  till  a  chance  came 
to  slip  behind  the  great  trunk  away  from  both. 
Then  he  safely  rose  and  flew  to  the  lonely  glen 
by  Taylor's  Hill. 

One  by  one  the  deadly  cruel  gun  had  stricken 
his  near  ones  down,  till  now,  once  more,  he 
was  alone.  The  Snow  Moon  slowly  passed 
with  many  a  narrow  escape,  and  Pedruff,  now 
known  to  be  the  only  survivor  of  his  kind,  was 
relentlessly  pursued,  and  grew  wilder  every  day. 

It  seemed,  at  length,  a  waste  of  time  to  fo^ 

3S4 


vv 


\hi 


dog  sprang;  at 
ned  behind  the 
t  gunner  in  the 
f  the  miserable 

beautiful,  sen- 

tered  and  bleed- 
>  lit,  mere  car- 
ruff.  There  was 
;  squatted  low. 
>f  him,  and  the 
ddy,  passed  at 
1  a  chance  came 
wray  from  both, 
the  lonely  glen 

un  had  stricken 
once  more,  he 
slowly  passed 
I  Pedruff,  now 
if  his  kind,  was 
Ider  every  day. 
of  time  to  fo^ 


\\ 


Rcdfuff 

low  him  with  a  gun,  so  when  the  snow 
deepest,  and  food  scarcest,  Cuddy  hatched  a  new 
plot.  Right  across  the  feeding-ground,  almost 
the  only  good  one  now  in  the  Stormy  Moon, 
he  set  a  row  of  snares.  A  cottontail  bbit, 
an  old  friend,  cut  several  of  these  with  h.  sh:  p 
teeth,  but  some  remained,  and  Redruf  wat/:i.- 
ing  a  far-off  speck  that  might  turn  out  a  oawk, 
trod  right  in  one  of  them,  and  in  an  'nstant 
was  jerked  into  the  air  to  dangle  by  one 
foot. 

Have  the  wild  things  no  moral  or  legal 
rights  ?  What  right  has  man  to  inflict  such  long 
and  fearful  agony  on  a  fellow-creature,  simply 
because  that  creature  does  not  speak  his  lan- 
guage? All  that  day,  with  growing,  racking 
pains,  poor  Redruff  hung  and  beat  his  great, 
strong  wings  in  helpless  struggles  to  be  free. 
All  day,  all  night,  with  growing  torture,  until 
he  only  longed  for  death.  But  no  one  came. 
The  morning  broke,  the  day  wore  on,  and  still 
he  hung  there,  slowly  dying ;  his  very  strength 
a  curse.  The  second  night  crawled  slowly 
down,  and  when,  in  the  dawdling  hours  of 
darkness,  a  great  Horned  Owl,  drawn  by  the 


957 


Oan. 
[  STORMY^ 
JMOON. 


e-r5] 


ml      I: 


..I...... 


Redruff 

feeble  flutter  of  a  dying  wing,  cut  short  thl 
pain,  the  deed  was  wholly  kind. 


The  wind  blew  down  the  valley  from  the 
north.  The  snow-horses  went  racing  over  the 
wrinkled  ice,  over  the  Don  Flats,  and  over  the 
marsh  toward  the  lake,  white,  for  they  were 
driven  snow,  but  on  them,  scattered  dark,  were 
riding  plumy  fragments  of  partridge  ruffs — the 
famous  rainbow  ruffs.  And  they  rode  on  the 
winter  wind  that  night,  away  and  away  to  the 
south,  over  the  dark  and  boisterous  lake,  as  they 
rode  in  the  gloom  of  his  Mad  Moon  flight, 
riding  and  riding  on  till  they  were  engulfed, 
the  last  trace  of  the  last  of  the  Don  Valley  race. 

For  now  no  partridge  comes  to  Castle  Frank. 
Its  woodbirds  miss  the  martial  spring  salute., 
and  in  Mud  Creek  Ravine  the  old  pine  drum* 
log,  since  unused,  has  rotted  in  silence  away. 


!    i- 


H 


)\r 


It  short  thi 


y  from  the 
ing  over  the 
ind  over  the 
r  they  were 
i  dark,  were 
[C  ruffs — the 
rode  on  the 
away  to  the 
lake,  as  they 
Moon  flight, 
re  engulfed, 
Valley  race. 
Castle  Frank. 
3ring  salute,, 
i  pine  drum* 
!nce  away. 


